Interference
by Dragoncello
Summary: Before Hogwarts, before Ron and Hermione, before magic itself; Harry's life and the course of history are thrown off course when mysterious circumstances bring him into the path of a thousand year old Time Lord and his time-travelling companions. But all choices have consequences and no one can outrun destiny, not even a child of the TARDIS.
1. First Night

**A/N: This is a long one, people. I'm hoping for a three parter but time will tell. Interference is the first part of Harry's tale and serves as a prologue in itself to the greater plot, but don't worry, there's plenty of action and angst ahead. I'm a huge fan of both fandoms so I'll try to stay as true to the books and the show as possible. I'm neither a bestselling author nor involved with the BBC in any way. Actually I'm very very Irish but we really don't have an equivalent that I can get this excited about. Without any further adieu - allons-y!**

 **Prologue**

In all of existence, there is one thing that every life form has in common. Even the smart ones, the ones who've figured out the exact concentrations of interstellar gas and dust that once collapsed under their own gravitational attraction to form what we call stars – even _they_ have looked out into those very stars for answers at some point in their lives. Destiny, love, death: mysteries impossible to solve and yet that's never stopped us from trying.

To put it another way: what does it mean to be alive?

Close your eyes. Good. Now imagine a pebble skimming the surface of a pond. You notice the points where it hits the water line, where the water ripples outwards and settles into a perfect mirror of its former state. Down sinks the pebble and we forget it ever disturbed that chilling blankness. Because human eyes aren't designed to detect the slight rise in the water level, nor the displacement of water molecules too small to distinguish from their neighbours. The truth _is_ that not a drop of water is unaffected. We all have our role in the great game and only once you're out do you even get a peek at the rulebook. But it only takes a moment in time to forever alter the landscape of our universe and rewrite what has been, what is and what _always will be_ mapped out for us. Basically, free will exists. Have you got that?

Well, it's nothing like that.

Chapter One: First Night

'Doctor, is it supposed to do that?' asked Amy.

'Can you be more specific?' rang out the Doctor's voice from below the console, slightly muffled by the sporadic clinking of metal against metal. 'The TARDIS does a lot of things, most of them loud and spacey'.

'Yeah, I'm used to spacey. It's more the red flashing light that I'm worried about' she shouted back at him, stepping up warily to the controls to get a closer look.

'It's probably just the protoplasm resettling after that dive we took in Aridius. Don't worry, Pond! I'm sure there's nothing to worry ab' –

A great heaving lurch threw Amy suddenly into the railing and she grasped on tightly as an alarm rang out through the TARDIS.

'Amy!'

'Rory?'

Amy felt a hand at her shoulder and turned to find the more than ruffled appearance of her husband as they were tossed backwards towards the console. Then the floor of the ship stilled and the Doctor climbed up to examine the digital interface, which had gone mercifully silent.

'Did we just turn around?' asked Rory doubtfully.

'I suppose so!' said the Doctor excitedly. 'Well, we might have if there were any real direction or stable matter in the vortex to turn around in' he amended, pressing a number of buttons and seeming to find meaning in the endless lines of code the TARDIS offered him.

'Old girl, what have they done to you?' he asked in a quiet voice.

'Doctor?'

'Someone's hijacked the TARDIS' said the Doctor with wonder.

'But how is that possible?' asked Amy. 'Don't you have shields up?'

'They were temporarily down while I reconfigured the extrapolator. But even so, no one should be able to hack into the main data frame! It's impossible. It's unprecedented. It's very, very clever' said the Doctor rather quickly, arms flapping about as they tended to do at the prospect of a good puzzle. He pulled out a screen and the other two could see his eyes widen further.

'Where are we, then?' asked Amy, cheerful now that their brief stunt of turbulence had led to another adventure so soon after their disastrous trip to 18th century Madrid. Suffice it to say that Rory and Casanova did not get on.

'I feel like a planet, something with green people and a big red button' she told Rory as the Doctor adjusted his bow tie and they all headed expectantly for the TARDIS door.

'Well you did ask for a planet' said Rory in an undertone as they stepped out to look at their surroundings.

The neighbourhood they had materialised in was something out of one of Amy's pre-TARDIS nightmares. At one point her wedding jitters had gotten so bad as to induce a recurring dream where she was stuck in a similar endless row of suburban houses. It was her fear of this flavour of boring which had made her so receptive to the idea of running away with an alien on her wedding night.

'Maybe there's a militia of attic monsters or something' suggested Rory with sympathy.

'Doctor, are you sure you didn't just jiggle something in the controls again?' asked Amy sceptically.

The Doctor was busy examining a hydrangea bush on his hands and knees, the sound of the sonic whirring distinctively in the stillness of what looked like late evening. Across the road, Amy could see a face peeking out at them from behind a curtain in the shadows and tried to arrange her expression into that of a responsible adult. Not that she'd had much practice lately.

'Exactly as I thought' he said, standing up and examining a fallen leaf closely before tossing it over his shoulder. 'This street is completely normal. _Well_ , as normal as your average community of humans. Lots of secrets behind closed doors, I should think. And a great place for an alien to hide in plain sight'.

'But you just said there was nothing weird about this place' Rory reminded him.

'There isn't. It's the most not weird place I've ever seen. Yet something on this street managed to hijack the TARDIS – yanked it clear out of the time vortex, through nebulas and dying stars, through multiple galaxies and a universe of complex communication systems! I've had distress calls before but the TARDIS couldn't process the message in any known language. And now I can't pick up a trace of it anywhere!'

'But how do you know that it's one person? It could be another ship or a group or something' said Amy.

'That's true. It could also be a weapon of mass destruction waiting to blow us to bits, but I doubt it. A system of that magnitude always leaves traces. But a living, most probably breathing person? They can get riled up and calm down quicker than any operations system, let me tell you'.

'So what do we do, just wait for them to reveal themselves?' asked Rory. 'Because I'm getting a very suggestive glare from the owner of the garden you just trampled on.

Sure enough, there was a scathing look waiting for them at the window of the house behind them. The middle-aged woman seemed unaffected by the Doctor's apologetic grin and goofy wave, but eventually they heard the sound of the television turning on and the three started walking.

They were a few minutes down the pathway when a car drove towards them and slowed to a stop. The driver's window rolled down to reveal a rather large and red-faced man.

'You lot!' he barked gruffly and the Doctor stopped in his tracks to smile accommodatingly at the man.

'Hello, there' he greeted brightly. 'Pleasant evening for a drive, eh? Lots of…squirrels and things about. I'm the Doct'-

'What – listen, you. I'll not have street performers in _this_ neighbourhood, you hear me?' the man interrupted, pointing a thick finger back behind them to where they had left the TARDIS fairly conspicuously. 'You better move that rubbish right now'.

'Rubbish?!' spluttered the Doctor, uncharacteristically affronted. 'You wouldn't believe how much I could get for it if I ever became mad enough to sell it. I'd sooner sell my grandmother, if I had a grandmother. Nearly lost it in a poker game one day, I said Ludwig' –

'What the ruddy hell are you blabbering on about?' the man asked furiously. The Doctor and the Ponds unconsciously took a step backwards, less out of intimidation and more to protect themselves from a shower of spittle. That bulging vein in his neck looked ready to burst any moment now.

'Why aren't we moving?' complained a childish voice from the back of the car.

'Vernon, forget them' said a bony woman sitting next to her husband, looking over at Amy's short denim skirt with haughty disapproval. 'We'll be late for dinner with the Hastings'.

'You lot better be gone by the time we get back or I'll be calling the police' warned Vernon. 'And take that blue monstrosity with you! We don't tolerate _freaks_ on this street'.

'But you see, we _are_ the police' said the Doctor, holding out his psychic paper with a triumphant flourish. 'Detective Inspector John Smith, just doing a general check-up, nothing to worry about. Have you seen anything strange around here in the last few days?'

'Stranger than a nutter with a blank piece of paper? The nerve!' he grunted furiously, rolling up the window again with some effort.

With a last impressive scowl from the couple, which seemed to be hereditary judging by their son's fair imitation through the back window, the car drove off.

'That was unpleasant' deadpanned Rory. 'Are you sure they're not the ones we're looking for? Half Dalek, half Sontaran?'

'And another half Slitheen, just for fun' smirked Amy. 'How did he see through your psychic paper?'

'It's a very rare condition, I only come across it once every century or so' said the Doctor with a sigh. 'That man has absolutely no imagination. All the same, people like that make you appreciate the good ones' he said. 'Let's hope it's a friendly one that dragged us here, eh?'

Amy and Rory continued to keep their eye open for something unusual as they followed the Doctor but so far they had seen nothing but a row of identical houses, most emitting the sounds of families watching the telly or the clinking of cutlery. It wasn't until the end of the street that either of them got the sense that the cogs in the Doctor's brain were beginning to turn, his head craning into each window as if in search of a familiar face. Then he stopped abruptly in front of a dark house.

'This one looks as good as any' he announced.

'Is that a random guess?' asked Rory.

'No, it's not a guess, it's an informed….jab at it' he denied.

'It's because it's dark and empty and all mysterious-looking' said Amy tartly.

'I know' he grinned, rapping on the front door.

'It doesn't look like there's anybody home' said Rory after a moment, noticing the closed curtains in the front window. 'It could be abandoned'.

'With a garden this tidy?' argued the Doctor.

'How is it that we've gone this long without learning how to pick a lock?' wondered Amy, trying the front door just to be sure. 'Doctor?' she asked, noticing that he had frozen while taking out his psychic paper.

'If there's nobody home then who sent this message?' asked the Doctor, holding it up to the light of the streetlamp so that the others could see. It was just two words, but they were enough to make Amy shiver anew in the cool air:

 _Don't blink._

 _._

 _._

 _._

Harry held very still, shivering despite himself as a gust of cold wind blew through the thin left wall of his cupboard. He had never minded the dark, really, had always been able to distract himself some way or another. But he couldn't help the terror that had coursed through him when his small light had given a final flicker and gone out. Since then, he'd been breathing heavily despite himself and trying not to think about what it meant or the fact that he was alone in the house. Maybe it was better that way.

He jumped and pulled his arms around his knees when a heavy crash came from the hall. Had that been the front door?

'Maybe the Dursleys forgot something' he thought hopefully and with more than a bit of relief, despite... well, the Dursleys. He listened carefully, but could hear nothing. And never had he known his relatives to do anything quietly.

'Wait' he thought he heard, in a whisper. He tensed, fighting the urge to hide himself under his blanket. But no, it was smarter than that. _Keep your eyes open_.

'There has to be a reason' he heard, before the sound died away again.

Slowly, the latch on the cupboard door creaked open and Harry tried to silently grab something with which to defend himself from his measly collection of broken toys. What was he going to do, stab it with a toy soldier's head? Before he had time to come up with a better strategy, the door was flung open noiselessly and Harry found himself temporarily blinded by a strange green light.

Wide green eyes slowly focused on three people staring back at him with obvious surprise, in the faint glow coming from some sort of torch in the middle man's hand.

'Hello?' asked Harry softly, unsure of how they would react. _At least they're human this time,_ he thought. As wary as he was of people when they were angry at him, which they often and inexplicably were around Harry, he couldn't help but relax a bit now that he could see again.

'Hello' said the middle one, who Harry noticed was wearing a bow tie, much like the one Uncle Vernon sometimes wore when people came over for dinner and he had to stay very quiet.

'You're not an alien, then?'

Rory sighed heavily as Harry stared back at the Doctor wide-eyed.

'Well, not to worry. We'll just leave you to it then' said the Doctor, slamming the cupboard door shut, only to reopen it again a moment later.

'Why are you in a cupboard? And you're alone – you're alone in a dark house. Are you the one who called me?' he asked, furrowing his brow at the sight of the small boy in baggy clothes squashed into such a narrow room. It looked _smaller_ on the inside, if anything.

'No, I…I'm not allowed to use the phone. Are you a policeman?' he asked, looking doubtfully at the man's strange attire.

'No, in fact you might say I'm the opposite of a policeman. No you wouldn't, that's rubbish. Call me the Doctor'.

'Doctor' whispered Amy into his ear. 'He's obviously terrified'.

'I'll get the lights' agreed Rory, reaching around blindly in the hallway until his hand caught a switch.

The Doctor lowered his screwdriver and smiled at the boy reassuringly. 'It's alright, we don't bite. Unless it's culturally required' he added. 'What's your name, then?'

'I'm Harry' he said, his voice coming out steadier than before. 'Harry Potter'.

'Do you want to come out into the living room? We can have a chat while we wait for your parents to come home'.

'My parents are dead' Harry answered and the three time travellers shared a quick glance. 'I live with the Dursleys but they won't be back for hours'.

'Why don't you come out all the same?' the Doctor asked kindly, stepping back to give the child some space and pulling the Ponds along with him.

'What the hell was that?' said Rory in an angry whisper. 'Did you see inside there? It looks like a bedroom. Who keeps a kid locked in a cupboard?'

'Hush, now, Rory. We don't want to jump to any conclusions' said the Doctor absentmindedly. His focus was already on the state of the living room, which was far too tidy for his tastes. Where were the toys, the half-finished cups of tea, the crayon wall-paintings? – in effect, all of those humany, lived-in things that make up a home.

The three of them turned around as Harry entered cautiously, looking like he didn't know quite where to put his limbs.

'Are these the Dursleys, Harry?' asked the Doctor calmly, pointing to a collection of family photographs displayed proudly on the mantle. Both Amy and Rory looked to him worryingly when they recognised their occupants but the Doctor kept his face blank as Harry shifted nervously and nodded.

'They're my aunt and uncle. And my cousin Dudley. I'm sorry, but…who are you?'

'Amy and Rory and me, the Doctor' he grinned, pointing accordingly.

'You're a doctor?' asked Harry with confusion, still standing stiffly beside the door.

'I'm _the_ Doctor. But don't worry, you're just an article off. Did your cousin lock you in that cupboard, Harry?' he asked.

Harry didn't seem to know what to say and looked back and forth between them before shifting his eyes noticeably to the glass doors facing the back garden.

'You should leave' he said, his jaw clenched with a resolve strange in one so young. 'It's not... you should come back tomorrow, during the daytime'.

'And why is that?' asked the Doctor. 'Have you seen something?'

'You can tell us anything, you know' said Amy gently. 'The three of us, we've seen some strange things and there isn't much that we wouldn't believe at this point'.

'You don't understand' Harry shook his head, desperation growing from somewhere deep within him, his eyes still flitting towards that back window as if expecting it to blow away suddenly. 'Nobody will listen'.

'Listening's our job. The talking part's just an added bonus. Love a good story, don't we, Ponds?' he smiled at the couple, Harry's determination wavering.

'We meet all sorts travelling so we've heard some beauties. Stories about pirates and vampires, lizard people who live beneath the earth! Even stories about monsters: statues that can only move when you're not looking at them'.

Harry's eyes shot up to the Doctor's in shock. He must have found what he was looking for in the Time Lord's expression because he let out a breath as if to ready himself for something unpleasant.

The Doctor nodded at him encouragingly. 'Why don't you tell us what happened and we'll see if we can't just make the monsters go away?'

'I was cooking dinner a few days ago' Harry began in a quiet voice, after a pause. 'I looked out the window and it was just … standing there. The statue. I looked away for a minute and when I looked back, it was closer. It kept getting closer, every time I stopped watching it. All I had to do was blink'.

Harry watched the strangers closely, waiting for their inevitable reaction - disbelief, anger, probably the word 'liar' thrown around a few times. But there was something about them, he noticed. They seemed to know more about what was going on than he did.

'How did you get away?' asked Amy.

'He didn't' said the Doctor. 'It's still here'.

'What?' asked Rory, looking around in a panic. 'Should we be running towards the TARDIS right about now?'

'Don't be stupid, Rory. We'd never make it to the TARDIS. It's dark outside, which means we're an Angel food buffet waiting to happen. No, our best plan is to stay inside where it's bright'.

'You should make a run for it. It's not going to stop' said Harry, his voice breaking.

'Well I'm sure we can think of something to do' said the Doctor, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. 'Late eighties, is it? Tell me you've got Scrabble because I'm rubbish at Guess Who. No offence, but you all look the same to me. Give me a good multi-species identification game any day. Have you got one of those?'

'Doctor, why is an Angel stalking him? Is that normal?' asked Amy with concern.

'Of course it isn't. But Harry here's used to not normal, aren't you?' he asked with a wink. 'Three strangers break into your house and want to know about the alien no one else believes is real, not to mention the fact that a statue has been spying on you for days now. And you want us to leave, why?' he asked curiously. 'Aren't you scared?'

'I…' stuttered Harry, seemingly taken aback by the Doctor's interest in him. 'Did you say alien? Look, it doesn't care about my relatives, it never bothers them. You'll probably be safe'.

'Great word, probably' smiled the Doctor, holding a picture of Dudley at the beach up to his eye line to compare it with the spluttering boy in front of him. 'Say, where'd you get that scar?'

'What? We don't have time for this!' yelled Harry. 'Please just go. Just leave!'

Then the light in the hall went out.

'Did anyone remember to close the front door?' asked Rory tensely as he reached out for Harry's shoulder to pull him further into the room.

The light in the living room flickered and they all jumped at the sudden sight of the Weeping Angel, its mouth opened in a vicious snarl revealing sharp teeth, arms outstretched as if to lunge at Harry.

'No one blink!' warned the Doctor. His own attention was focused on holding his screwdriver up to the ceiling lamp, trying to block the fluctuation the Angel was using to disable the lights.

'Doctor' warned Amy shakily as the light flickered again and the Angel appeared a step closer.

'Why is it here?' asked Harry, staring into the hungry face of the statue with eyes quickly watering from the effort to stay open. 'Leave them alone!' He shook off the hands resting protectively on his shoulders to step forwards.

'Quickly, everyone behind me' the Doctor warned with panic in his voice now, the light bulb flashing with the strain of their duel interference.

It burst with a flash of electricity and the room was engulfed in darkness once more.

'Harry!' yelled Amy but her voice was swallowed up by a resounding crash. For a moment she thought the ceiling had toppled in on them as she heard several heavy somethings fall to the ground hard around them. The room was eerily quiet after that and Amy reached out blindly to clasp Rory's hand.

'Is everyone alright?' asked the Doctor, feeling his way forward into the hallway to the light switch.

When he returned, Harry was on his knees on the ground, white with shock and what looked like a layer of dust. It took a moment for Amy, Rory and the Doctor to realise the significance of the jagged pieces of stone spread out around them on the once spotless carpet.

'Doctor, is that….?' asked Rory uncertainly.

The Doctor's mind was going around in circles, trying to make sense of the remains of the Weeping Angel.

They were notoriously difficult to kill, even while quantum locked. It was one of the most impressive survival mechanisms in the universe and even the Doctor had had to up his creativity to outsmart them in the past. Funny, he'd never considered blowing them up with his mind.

'I'm sorry' gasped Harry, looking fearfully up at the three of them. 'I didn't mean to! Please don't tell them. They'll kill me, I can't' –

Amy and Rory exchanged a worried look but the Doctor kept his eyes fixed on Harry as the boy attempted to sweep up the dust from the carpet with his hands.

'Has something like this happened before, Harry?' he asked very slowly.

The boy shook his head, still grasping at the smaller stones as if he could wipe away all trace of the Angel.

'I need to clean this up, they can't see' –

'We'll take care of everything. Fully qualified alien cleaner-uppers, that's us' rambled the Doctor, bending down to Harry's level and removing a large piece of rubble from his hands.

'Right. Why don't I make tea?' asked Rory awkwardly, which earned an exasperated look from his wife. 'It's my dad's cure for everything, I have no other coping skills'.

'Wonderful idea! Tea and a biscuit, just what the Doctor ordered. Sorry Rory, there isn't an equivalent saying for plastic Roman soldiers. Yet. Pond and I will get to work on that and … also the cleaning, while Harry shows you to the kitchen. Is that a plan or isn't it?'

It was a testament to how shaken the child was that he just nodded his head curtly and decided to ignore the string of nonsense the strange man was spurting out. He stood up with a final horrified glance at the remains of the statue and allowed himself to be guided out of the room by Rory.

'Please tell me you know what's going on' said Amy once they'd left. 'What happened to the Angel?'

'Harry got upset, is what happened' said the Doctor with wonder, eyeing the jagged piece of one of the deadliest creatures in existence still lying in his palm. 'Whatever killed the Angel was wild and unfocused. I don't think even _he_ knew he was capable of it'.

'How can a kid kill a Weeping Angel? He _has_ to be an alien. Do you think these people are even his family? Family being the operative word' added Amy, the knot that had grown in her stomach when they had first found Harry tightening uncomfortably.

Something was definitely not right in this house.

'I don't know' the Doctor admitted, the words sounding odd coming from the usually confident Time Lord. 'The more important question is what attracted the Weeping Angel in the first place. They're called the Lonely Assassins for a reason so it was definitely working alone. But you never know, another one might pass through and spot the same thing that this one did'.

'We're not leaving him here!' exclaimed Amy with outrage. 'You have to know what's going on, he looks half starved'.

'Travelling with us would hardly be safer. I suppose we could always drop him off at an orphanage with a note' he suggested distractedly.

Amy was well used to the Doctor's love of reverse psychology and could usually smell it from a mile away. As much as she wanted to protect the boy with the emerald green eyes – so small in his baggy clothes - who had stood up to one of her worst fears to protect a group of strangers, something was holding her back.

A tiny pair of blue eyes looking up at her, with that pink newborn smell she was pretty sure she would never find the equal of in all of time and space.

'We can't just replace Melody' she said and something softened in the Doctor's eyes.

'And you never have to. But tell me you don't want to see his reaction when he steps into the TARDIS for the first time' smiled the Doctor knowingly.

'So we kidnap children now, do we?' laughed Amy.

'Little Amelia Pond didn't seem to have a problem with it'.

'Oh shut up' scoffed Amy. 'Let's go ask him, then. We're not really going to clean this up though, are we?' she asked with a raised eyebrow, pointing to the mess of stone and dust.

'It looks better this way' said the Doctor, slinging an arm over Amy's shoulder as they headed for the kitchen.

There was a burden that came with being a Time Lord and God knows the Doctor had been bearing more than his fair share of it for hundreds of years now.

But never in a million years would he stop enjoying the perks for all they were worth. This was turning out to be one of the good days.

'Now let's go introduce a boy to all of time and space'.


	2. The Best of Times

**Chapter 2: The Best of Times**

 **An Interlude**

Harry knew what it meant to live in the dark.

Then along came the Ponds and their raggedy Doctor to give him the world – every millisecond of it and from every direction imaginable. Not that his relatives had been much for fairy tales or reading in general, but Harry thought that his own story could rival the best of them.

He'd been stupid enough to express that thought sometime during his second year on the TARDIS and had spent the next few hours listening to the Doctor's version of every Gallifreyan fairy tale he could remember. Harry had enjoyed 'The Princess and the Plasmovore' and 'The Little Android that Could' as much as any of them but Amy insisted to this day that he'd made half of them up ('Alright, I was there when that happened. You're mixing it up with your own life!' 'No I'm not, you are').

Three years had passed now, if they were to trust the TARDIS' internal tracking system. For Harry it felt like a lifetime of extraordinary people, complex paradoxes (which would probably go right over his head for another ten years or so), as well as an awful lot of running. More importantly, he had a family: something he thought he'd given up hoping for a long time ago. He also had his own room and a selection of period-appropriate clothing that he put to good use.

When he'd first joined the unlikely trio, sure that they'd realise their mistake at any moment and drop him back at Privet Drive for good, the Doctor had had the time of his life designing Harry's bedroom. He'd dropped the three of them off to the beaches of Acuataan (before the invasion) and spent a day building what looked closer to a theme park than a child's bedroom. It had everything a thousand year old Time Lord could think of: a bouncing castle inspired by his time in Camelot, a telepathic dolphin sanctuary, not to mention the giant chocolate waterfall which made Amy shriek with excitement ('Oh, this old thing? I had to disable it when the factory fell under: insurance nightmare. Plus I had my work cut out for me ferrying the workers back to Oompalon 5, they're not a chatty bunch...')

Amy seemed to understand his discomfort in the palatial room and had offered to sleep in an adjoining hammock that first night. Thankfully, the TARDIS had taken pity on him and within a week, the room had rearranged itself into something equally as colourful but closer in size to what Rory and Amy had been used to back in Leadworth.

In the early hours of Harry's eleventh birthday, it was in this room that Harry could be found: sleepily draped over his desk with a half-assembled robotic spider under his arm. He'd been up late working on it in an effort to prove to the Doctor how ready he was to start helping out more with the TARDIS. So far he'd already been upgraded from 'Hold that pointy thing, will you?' to 'Readjust the interior coupling, will you? With the bobble thingy', neither of which Harry thought was responsibility enough for a fully-grown eleven-year-old.

It was the spider that woke him up, apparently more finished than Harry had given himself credit for.

'Ouch' he muttered in surprise, raising his forearm to examine the tiny bite mark as the spider scuttled to the floor and out of sight, presumably to join the other misplaced experiments Harry had spotted roaming the halls of the ship. 'Oh well' mumbled Harry groggily, still half asleep. He was saved from having to decide whether or not to go back to sleep on the desk or try and make it back to the bed by a loud knock at the door.

'Harry Potter! Up! We've only got so many hours left in your birthday before we have to go and find another one. How do you fell about your 268th?' asked the Doctor, flinging the door wide open without waiting for an answer. 'The weather won't be great but there's very little chance we'll be eaten by giant slugs, or is that your 265th…'

'I'm up' grinned Harry, yawning widely the second he opened his mouth. 'Just let me get dressed' –

'Not enough time for that, Harry, we have too many planets to visit' the Doctor interrupted him. 'You humans and your twenty four hours - if you were born on Krystas in the 85th Galaxy, you'd have seventeen months of birthday celebrations'.

Harry only had time to remind the Doctor that if they celebrated for seventeen months, he'd have missed his twelfth birthday before the Time Lord grew impatient and pulled him off to the console room. Harry presumed that Amy and Rory were still in their pyjamas for similar reasons.

'I can't believe you're eleven already' grumbled Amy, after she'd nearly put a stop to his growth for good by suffocating him to death.

'Eleven, I can handle. It's River's birthdays that make my head explode' argued Rory. 'Speaking of heads exploding' –

'Oh, it's not that bad' scoffed Amy. Harry and Rory shared a conciliatory look.

'The Doctor has made some plans' Rory said, in a tone which would have been more suitable for the statement 'The Doctor invited the Daleks to your birthday party'.

His first birthday on the TARDIS had been surreal. In all his life he couldn't remember being given so much as an insincere card, let alone a party. Let alone a party at the universe's best reviewed restaurant in the year 3086, parked in orbit around New Savannah. The virus had spoiled the mood a bit.

Since then, he'd realised that it was as much fun for the other three as it was for him, if not more, so he'd flung himself wholeheartedly into the idea.

'When and where do we start?'

'We start, Harry, in a corner of the Vanbelt Peninsula, where King Lod has just proclaimed it National Pastry Day! He's probably senile, but it's said to be the most delicious day in all of history' announced the Doctor, who was entering from the opposite hallway to which he exited, now with a plastic canoe under each arm and a bowler hat perched on his head. 'After that, we've got a small gathering at the Dolmabahce Palace _before_ it melts, ice-skating on the Towers of Crelion, lunch on a small viewing station where you can see four hundred nebulae at once for a half hour in the year 11111111' –

'But first, presents' interrupted Rory.

'Ah…yes. I knew I forgot something' murmured the Doctor, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully. 'I suppose I could move the lava rafting' –

'Off you go' said Amy, pushing Rory and Harry in the direction of their rooms and choosing to ignore the word lava used in relation to their eleven-year-old ward. 'Clothes, presents, _then_ the unrelenting schedule of fun'.

Running with the Doctor was an adventure – it was investigation and exploration, sometimes dire and never boring. But sometimes, running with the Doctor was just an unlikely family sharing a very human moment. Harry loved it all, for as long as he could.


	3. Whispers in the Dark

**Chapter 3: Whispers in the Dark**

'Evacuate all holding cells according to Protocol 7. This base has been disabled: calling on all occupants of the upper levels to report immediately to the main deck. Level Zero has been lost'.

Archie cursed and started pacing as much as the small room would allow. The weight of the gun had begun to make his shoulder ache. So that was that. Five hours of silence from the bridge and nothing left to show for it. He gave another kick to the sealed door, more out of frustration than any hope that it would listen to him and spring open - not that he hadn't asked enough times already.

Archie spun around on his heels to check if the ship's movements had damaged the cargo in any way, but it looked good as new. Well actually, it looked dead old: the container was scratched and worn from years of travel, every bit of it probably as eventful as this journey had turned out to be. At least no one could say he'd slacked off at the end. There was that.

Another explosion rang out from somewhere close by, sending shockwaves up through the floor and making Archie flail backwards as he lost his balance. He hoped to God this room was as inconspicuous as the Captain had assured him: it was supposed to look like nothing more than a store room from the outside and if there was anything people weren't looking for in a state of emergency, it was cleaning supplies.

Two heavy thuds on the metal door shook Archie forcefully from his thoughts. Spinning around, he raised the gun shakily, waiting for an attack with baited breath –

Only to see the light of the intercom flash red.

Archie yelped in surprise and only wasted a second before jamming his finger onto the button.

'Hello? Is someone there?' he asked in a high voice, clearing his throat halfway through to settle on something deeper. 'Identify yourself!'

'Hello, hi! I'm the rescue team' said a faint voice from the other side of the door. Archie felt his body slump forward in relief to lean against the door, the gun slackening in his arms.

'I'm Archie. Is it clear out there?'

The feed went silent for a moment, only to be broken by a strange whirring sound.

'Hello? Are you still there?'

'Yes, sorry, one second ….' the voice grunted, clearly concentrating. 'Have you got the cargo in there by any chance?'

'It's safe' he confirmed. 'I think they must have given u' –

'Right, Archie. You might want to step back'.

His eyes widened and he stumbled backwards just in time to avoid the door exploding off of its hinges. Slowly, it teetered and fell forward to crash on the floor in front of him. Archie tried to make out a figure through the smoke.

'Sorry about that, I've only borrowed this' his rescuer said, waving a metal probe apologetically.

'B-but...' stuttered Archie in bewilderment. 'You're just a kid!'

'I'm nearly twelve' argued Harry, his eyes narrowing.

'But how did you even get here? This is a military ship!'

'You sent out a distress call: something about precious cargo?' asked the black-haired boy, eyebrows raised.

'Right!' said Archie, turning back into the room and typing in the code for the mobile setting on the interface. When the light went green, he spun the capsule on its wheels so the narrow end was facing the open doorway. Harry grabbed it at the top and they somehow managed to manoeuvre it over the fallen door and into the hallway - the eerily quiet and obviously abandoned hallway.

'Where's your ship? Your people?' he asked Harry as they raced down the corridor to the cabin doors, the sounds of a nearby explosion reverberating above them.

'It's on this floor' panted Harry, running backwards and looking over his shoulder as they guided the container. 'But speaking of people' –

They slowed to a stop and Harry opened the door out onto Deck 0.

'Er…never mind, then' said Harry, looking around him at the empty platform. He paled slightly at the sight of the scorched flooring and the obvious hole blown into the stairway on their left. No Amy and Rory, however.

'They should be around here somewhere' he told Archie, hopefully coming off less worried than he was because the young brown-haired soldier looked ready to collapse as it was. 'Wait here, I'll go find them' –

'Don't just run off! Do you know how many of them are still on board? Kid, wait!' –

Harry was too busy sprinting across the cavernous room to listen. He opened the main doors to find an identical row of bunks and storage rooms, listening at each closed door for signs of life and trying not to panic.

He almost missed the glass doorway in his haste and had to fling himself backwards to avoid being seen. Crawling close to the floor, he pushed the door open as quietly as possible. An immediate flood of sound greeted him and he found himself on a narrow platform built around the four corners of a large hall down below. Stacks upon stacks of storage crates were piled up one on top of the other and leaning over, Harry could see hooded figures – at least a hundred of them – breaking each one open and tossing their contents to the floor.

'Harry!'

The low hiss had come from his left, where Amy and Rory – hopefully just under stress and not furious at him for wandering off – were both handcuffed to railings on the corner of the platform. Harry grinned in greeting, staying close to the ground as he made his way over to them.

'What have we said!' whispered Rory, having no problem demonstrating his anger despite the low register. 'No running off, _especially_ on invaded war ships' –

'We can yell at him later' whispered Amy tensely, silently jerking her head towards the hooded figures who were working their way through the containers faster than she would have liked.

Harry tried to look suitably apologetic as he turned on the sonic to release first Amy's cuffs, silently praying that the acoustics here were rubbish.

'It's not working!' he whispered in frustration when the russet red metal refused to break open.

'I knew there was something odd about them' said Rory, looking worryingly down below them. 'Who uses a key in the 82nd century?'

'A key?' asked Harry. 'Where is it?'

Amy and Rory communicated silently – something which always annoyed Harry to no bounds – and seemed to come to some sort of agreement.

'Harry, it's time to go back to the TARDIS' said Amy very seriously. 'You remember where we left it? – By the dining hall' –

'What? You want me to just leave you here?' asked Harry in disbelief.

'We want you to wait in there until we or the Doctor can come and get you' said Rory.

'No way! I can help!' hissed Harry quietly. 'I'll get you the key, where is it?'

Almost imperceptibly, the pair shifted in the direction of the room down below, their eyes widening as they caught on to Harry's triumph.

'Don't you dare!' –

Harry ignored her, along with the guilty feeling he got in his gut whenever he disobeyed Amy or Rory. Carefully he crawled to the adjoining path against the wall, where a small circular protrusion in the floor jutted out enough to let him look down below (with any luck, unnoticed).

Harry had yet to come face to face with whatever group had invaded the ship and hanging over the edge, he still couldn't make out a face beneath their dark cloaks and hoods. Harry also hadn't heard a single voice down below. They seemed to be working silently, aside from the sounds of their less-than-delicate search. He found it strangely unnerving. On the opposite side of the room, they had broken into a container full of weaponry and a dozen metal trunks. The centre of the room had been all but emptied already and directly below him, two of the figures were standing silently, surveying what were probably their underlings.

One of them moved suddenly and looked up in his direction, Harry pulling his head away just in time. Breathing heavily, he froze just to be sure he hadn't been seen. Once the threat of gunfire had passed, Harry squirmed into the same position. It had only been a glimpse but he'd seen it as the figure turned: a flash of red metal tied onto the side of the creature's robes. If he leaned slightly to the left he could see the key, hanging from the belt of his (or her) robe.

How to go about this? Harry looked over at the Ponds who were sending him daggers with their eyes from the corner of the platform. Wincing slightly, Harry mouthed 'It's okay' and shifted, leaning forward to free his hand over the side of the platform. He hadn't planned on showing either of them, especially not at a time like this, but he was desperate, wasn't he? He could do this.

Stretching his hand out over the side, he stared hard at the key down below, biting his lip in concentration. For a second he worried that it wouldn't work but then he felt _it,_ bubbling up from somewhere deep within his core and despite the urgency of the situation he smiled at the sensation.

Focusing intently, he could have whooped with excitement when the key slowly slipped itself loose of its tie and floated upwards through the air. Time seemed to stand still as it rose, those below still oblivious. Harry could feel Amy and Rory's shock coming off of them in waves from a few feet over as he grasped the cold metal in his flailing hand.

Hurriedly, he crawled back to the pair and tried not to meet their eyes while he unclasped their handcuffs.

'I also found the cargo' he whispered, which made Rory choke down a bemused laugh as he rubbed his sore wrists.

.

.

.

'I thought you'd left!' exclaimed Archie, who they found pacing in front of his charge, gun in hand, on the main deck. 'We need to get out of here. The vessel has to be maintained at a constant temperature and air pressure or it could open before it's set to'.

'So this is it?' asked Amy curiously, stepping up to the engraved capsule to examine the lid. 'All this fuss over a glorified wardrobe'.

Archie made a garbled, choking sound. 'This is the earth's most sacred religious artefact' he finally settled on. 'It's over five thousand years old and perfectly preserved'.

'So why does the military have it?' asked Rory.

'We're the Church' said Archie as if it was self-evident.

'What's inside?' asked Harry.

'Nobody knows, do they?' he answered. 'It's supposed to be the Word of God. Only bishops and up are allowed to know what's really in there'.

'Well, that certainly sounds like the Church' muttered Rory.

The ship groaned and shook as another alarm rang out from where Amy and Rory had been held. They'd sealed the door shut behind them but none of them knew how long it would hold against an assault.

'Where's the Doctor?' asked Harry.

'He went up to Level 7 to the captain's berth' explained Rory. 'The main engines went down so he's trying to release some dead weight to keep us in orbit'. The door started shaking against a sudden barrage of gunfire from the other side.

'We should work our way up, then' said Amy. 'I assume you know how to use that thing?' she asked Archie, pointing at his machine gun.

He shifted uncomfortably and Harry groaned.

'I thought you were the guard!'

'I'm a conservator!' he protested. 'I'm just here to do maintenance every few days. They sealed the doors shut while I was working'.

'Er… Amy?' called Rory, pointing to the large glass windows across the way. 'Is it just me or does that look like levels one through seven?'

They all turned as one to see the ship, still colossal even without its bottom floor, floating in deep space and getting further and further away.

'They've cut us off' gasped Archie. 'I'm supposed to protect the cargo at all costs and they just threw us away!'

'The Doctor wouldn't just leave us' Amy assured him. 'For now, let's get back into the TARDIS where it's safe' –

The metal door being bent outwards from the centre by blunt force swallowed up the rest of her words.

'I second that' agreed Rory, pushing the other end to Archie's as they all made a run for the blue police box, which was standing in the beverages section of the dining hall where they'd left it.

They'd only just rolled the load inside and slammed the door shut before a dozen of the robed people came storming through the remains of the doorway, red lights crackling menacingly in their hands.

'It's…. It's bigger' said Archie, looking sick. 'We're inside and now it's bigger'.

'You get used to it' said Harry, but any further explanation was cut short by the ringing of the telephone, which Amy promptly picked up.

'Hello, Doctor. Anything you want to share with us?'

'Pond! Wonderful. If you haven't already noticed, I had to disable your level, but not to worry: I've set the TARDIS to auto-pilot. It'll take you straight to me. All you need to do is hold onto the telepathic flight controls and she'll do the rest. See you soon!' Click.

All four of them were reeling by the time the TARDIS came to a halt.

'I'll never complain about the Doctor's driving ever again' groaned Rory, steadying himself on the railing.

'My mind kept wandering, okay?' glared Amy.

Opening the TARDIS door, they could hear gunfire echoing throughout the ship. Amy and Rory had already slipped outside when Harry looked back to see Archie standing uncertainly by the container.

'Aren't you coming?' he asked. 'You don't know the Doctor, but he probably has everything under control. Even if he doesn't look like he does'.

'It sounds rough out there' said Archie, visibly defensive. 'It's my job to keep this thing safe. It's the only reason I'm here!'

'But you don't even know what's in there' argued Harry, bewildered. 'Actually, you know what? Suit yourself' Harry gave up, following the others out into what looked like a viewing station at the top of the ship.

Archie was left standing awkwardly in the console room for some time, his head ringing from their bumpy ride. Eventually he opened the door to peek outside and was greeted by the deafening sounds of a grenade going off down the hall. He turned to look at the capsule on the TARDIS floor, by now looking the worse for wear, and clenched his gun feebly. Swearing, he threw open the TARDIS door and ran out into the blaze before he could change his mind.

Nobody was there to hear the faint beeping of the capsule as its digital interface began to glow red.

Nobody saw it click open either, releasing gas into the TARDIS with a long, drawn-out hiss.

.

.

.

'Companions of the Doctor, I'm to escort you to Operation Control' announced a surly faced soldier, saluting the Ponds and looking strangely at Harry.

'Is the fighting still going on?' asked Amy as they walked down a narrow corridor and past several armed guards.

An answering explosion from somewhere below cut the soldier's response short as they walked through to a bright room with a ring of machines around the walls and a large glass window looking down at the rest of the ship.

'Not for long' smiled the Doctor, spinning around energetically on a wheely chair to face the three of them. 'Father, at ease' he said to the soldier with a mock salute.

'Father?' questioned Harry.

'Well, not _my_ Father' the Doctor assured him. 'Maybe somebody's father, but he's far more likely to be my great great grandson times a thousand if anything. In this case, father of guns and hand grenades, I should think'.

'Do you know who they are…the hooded people?' asked Amy. 'They didn't say a word to us, they just threatened us with their creepy hand magic'.

Harry cringed at her choice of wording but no one else seemed to notice.

'Ah, yes. That would be the headless monks' nodded the Doctor, turning back around to the computer in front of him.

'You mean like at Demon's Run?' asked Rory.

'Not exactly. They're a different faction. They probably haven't even heard of me yet, let alone the Silence. One more second and …. There' he finished, as hundreds of files flashed alternately across the screen. Picking up a microphone on the control desk, he leaned back in his chair jauntily and turned it on with a flourish.

'Ahoooooy!'

The Doctor's voice reverberated throughout the ship, headless monks and the ship's crew alike pausing momentarily in the middle of their fighting to listen. With the loss of gunfire, the ship fell silent.

'That's more like it' said the Doctor. 'Now everybody with ears, listen up. Everyone without, you can just take your orders from the Abbots in charge who are probably holding up in that great big ship thirty-two miles away – yes you! Hello! Did you get my present? See, I've spent the last half hour decrypting the ship's terrific emergency censors and what do you know? That box you're so intent on finding is hidden on the wing we just expelled - and I've just sent you the floor plan'.

The door burst open and a giant of a man in uniform came charging inside with a dozen soldiers in his wake. He pulled out his gun and drew it on the Doctor, who just winked and held up a single finger for the man to wait.

'So let's re-evaluate, then. You're outnumbered, you've already lost half your faction and your incentive just floated away with the rest of the reinforcements. Oh, and let's not forget the Type 12 Teleportation bands that got you on board in the first place. I'd say they have enough collective energy for one more trip, wouldn't you?'

Everyone in the control room held their breath as they waited for the fallout of the Doctor's speech. Then a multitude of cheers replaced the gunfire from all over the ship.

'How dare you, Doctor' snarled the soldier, who still had a gun pointing threateningly at the Time Lord's head and was the only one not to relax at the monks' departure. 'I gave you control on good faith and you hand the vessel over to our enemies…without even consulting me!'

'Put the gun down, Archbishop. You're embarrassing everyone' said the Doctor, unconcerned. 'The Word of God is safe and sound in my TARDIS, isn't that right?' he asked the three watching in a corner of the room.

'He's telling the truth' said a new voice in the doorway. A ruffled looked Archie flinched visibly as a dozen guns pointed at him, but he managed to return Harry's smile, if a little uncomfortably.

'Brother Archibald – you swear that the cargo is safe?' asked the Archbishop, letting out an almost imperceptible breath when the young conservator nodded.

'How did you know?' Rory asked the Doctor curiously.

'This database controls the entire ship. I saw the seal break on the storage room and since the monks were still charging ahead, I knew you must have found it. Great use of the sonic, Harry, I meant to say! I can't _wait_ to find out what's inside' the Doctor said, standing up and rubbing his hands together appreciatively.

'Don't move, Doctor' said the Archbishop. 'Father Farrow, keep your weapon trained on him' he ordered a redheaded soldier to his left. The Doctor frowned and Rory and Amy exchanged worried glances as the man in charge held a transmitter up to his mouth.

'This is the Archbishop in command of Flight 59B. Enabling all emergency systems on port-side. Prepare to launch in five minutes. This is a Code Brassard'.

'That's not necessary!' protested the Doctor. 'They've gone and they don't have enough energy to get through your shields again' –

'I can't afford to take that risk, Doctor' said the Archbishop.

'What is Code Brassard?' asked Amy, recognising the cold look of fury growing on the Doctor's face all too well.

'He wants to blow up Level 0 along with the five hundred life forms still there' said the Doctor icily. 'But he knows very well that I'm not going to let that happen'.

'You have no weapons, Doctor. It's done already' said the Archbishop.

'Never really saw the point of weapons' rebutted the Doctor. 'But why fix a problem when you can just blow it up, eh?'

'Don't vex me, Doctor. Not now. I've just lost dozens of soldiers'.

'You can save the universe with any old thing these days and believe me, I've tried them all' continued the Doctor as if he hadn't heard the other man. 'A well-timed banana, a teaspoon and an open mind – of course nothing beats a good' –

Harry, catching on, tossed the sonic to the Doctor who caught it deftly and extended it out to the interface at his side.

'- Screwdriver, now does it?' he finished, grinning at Harry and extending the sonic.

'Put it down, Doctor' grunted the Archbishop furiously.

'You may not know me very well, but I know you' said the Doctor, his eyes darkening. 'Oh yes, I've met you in every corner of the universe and never, not once, has this ended well for you. Because I've seen your cards and they're rubbish. See, in between bringing about a ceasefire and checking my email, I built in my own emergency protocol' said the Doctor, jerking his head to the interface. 'You blow up the last of the monks and your own weapons system self-destructs. It won't kill anyone but your ship will be next to defenceless to the next army that comes knocking'.

'Father, the vessel is on board' said Archie meekly. 'Maybe you should' –

'Quiet, boy!' yelled the Archbishop. 'I will not have you intimidate me, Doctor. We have been at war for long enough. Farrow, shoot the boy'.

'No!'

Amy cried out and tried to stand in front of Harry but the soldiers on either side pulled her back by the arm and centred their guns on the married couple. The redheaded soldier had paled visibly at the order, but with shaky movements he raised his gun and held it up to Harry's head.

'Don't you dare!' yelled the Doctor.

'It's your choice' said the Archbishop. 'In one minute, our missiles are going out. It's up to you whether or not the boy dies too'.

'Stop it! Would you kill a child just because he tells you to?!' Rory screamed at Farrow, whose lip was quivering. The soldier kept his eyes on Harry's though, bright green and wide as they skirted from Farrow to the Doctor anxiously.

'It's not too late' said the Doctor dangerously, looking only at the Archbishop. 'You can stop now and go in peace. But if you harm Harry in any way, I will destroy you'.

'Let's give you thirty seconds, shall we?' asked the Archbishop, taking up his transmitter again. 'This is operations, preparing to launch at my word' –

'Put it down, Father!' shouted Archie, who so far had been watching the proceedings with frozen horror. The priest turned his gaze slightly to see the young conservator pointing his gun at him with clear intent and started to lower his own.

'Hold steady, Father' said the Archbishop. 'It is an honour to die for God's word'.

'Doctor' whimpered Amy in fear.

'Choose now, Time Lord. The life of a child or those of terrorists' -

'It's okay, Doctor'.

It was the last statement that shook the Time Lord to his core. He turned his head around to look at Harry who seemed almost – accepting? The Doctor's jaw clenched and he prepared to make his choice –

'STOP THIS NOW!'

The entire room turned in the deafening silence that followed the outburst.

An elderly man stood in the doorway, his skin engraved with age lines. He was dressed in white robes not unlike the clergy of another time and carried a quiet strength in his stature despite his frailty. Immediately, the Archbishop's jaw dropped in shock and he faltered.

Archie looked over his shoulder in confusion at the stranger, unsure whether or not to lower his gun on Farrow – putting it up had been traumatic enough.

'Is this what the House of God has come to?' asked the elderly man, now exhibiting that rare skill of being able to emit fury while barely raising his voice. 'Murdering children?'

Harry had to repress the urge to remind them all that he was _nearly twelve_ and instead tried to make sense of what was going on. From across the room he could see a look of surprised wonder on the Doctor's face, his screwdriver still held up to the controls.

'Put the weapons down' said the man quietly. The soldiers looked to the Archbishop who nodded vigorously and lowered himself to a kneeling position, his head bowed. Slowly the soldiers lowered their guns, sharing questioning looks.

'I'm sorry, but who are you?' asked Rory, once he felt he'd glared enough at the soldier who'd been ready to shoot Harry.

'Isn't it obvious?' asked the Doctor, popping his screwdriver back into his pocket. 'He's the Vessel. And may I say it is an absolute pleasure to meet you' he said sincerely, walking forward to shake the serene man's hand. 'Stasis chamber, was it?'

'He's not the vessel' denied Archie. 'The vessel is…it's not… you're not, are you?'

'I'm afraid I am' said the old man with a glint of humour behind his serene façade. 'A prophet, to be exact. The last of the old order'.

'Jesus Christ' whispered Archie, before blushing furiously at his wording.

'Wait, why were you put in stasis?' asked Harry. 'You said the capsule was shut for five thousand years' he reminded Archie.

'As I got on in years, I agreed to be preserved and reawakened by the Papal mainframe at a time when they most require guidance' explained the Prophet. 'I assume whoever was meant to look after me wasn't expecting whatever warfare has taken place here today'.

'There is one thing I'm curious of' continued the prophet, looking to the Doctor curiously. 'I woke up in an extraordinary room'.

'The Vessel, in my TARDIS' muttered the Doctor excitedly. 'Ah, yes, well you _would_ be curious. I can give you a tour if you like, although I'm sure you'll want to be getting back to your stasis chamber'.

'Actually, it would seem I have enough to be getting up to in the here and now, don't you think?' he asked, looking over at the remaining soldiers.

The Doctor nodded solemnly and clasped his hand once more before they said their goodbyes to Archie. Dazed and pleased, the conservator agreed to stay on with the Vessel as planned, still reeling with the revelation of exactly what he'd been maintaining for the past few months.

Back at the TARDIS, the Doctor ran in ahead to examine the stasis chamber he'd accidentally commandeered so it was easy for Amy and Rory to corner Harry before he could step inside.

'You know we're not going to forget what happened' said Amy, eyes narrowed. 'Learning the art of telekinesis in our spare time, are we?'

Harry felt unaccountably nervous, having gotten over most of his shyness years ago. But Harry's abilities had always been a sore spot around the TARDIS, a shadow which followed them around. No one could ever explain to him what had happened with the Angel when he was eight and he had a feeling that it made them all uneasy to be so in the dark. It was also the only question the Doctor had ever failed to answer for him, and not for lack of trying.

'It was an amazing thing you did' said Rory with a begrudging smile. 'Just don't keep secrets that big from us, okay?'

'Okay' said Harry, taken aback by their reaction.

'But if you ignore us like that in a dangerous situation ever again' –

The ensuing lecture went on longer than Harry could have expected – didn't people usually want to rest after being kidnapped/restrained by religious fanatics? He didn't really mind, though. It was the sort of thing parents did.

Just as he was stepping inside after them, another voice pulled him back.

'Harry?' asked the prophet. 'May I have a word before you go?'

'Yeah, sure' said Harry awkwardly, not sure what the earth's most famous religious figure would want with him.

'I have a message for you' he said and Harry raised his eyebrows suspiciously. 'From..?' he asked but the older man seemed not to have heard him.

'The darkness… that resides inside you, in your very soul…. It goes hand in hand with your power and you cannot fight it'.

'Darkness?' asked Harry sceptically, not enjoying the prophet's intense gaze. 'What are you' –

'Harry, are you coming?' called Rory from inside the TARDIS.

'I'll be in in a second' he called back through the open doorway, his voice breaking slightly on the last word. When he turned back around, Harry found himself alone in the corridor and the dramatics of that move alone might have convinced him that the prophet's so-called message was nothing but theatrics.

But then why had even the Doctor - the ultimate sceptic - seemed impressed by the man? Despite himself, the Prophet's words had struck a chord in Harry, planted a seed of doubt that he would never quite be able to shake off.


	4. Beyond Dreams

"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."  
― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

 **Chapter 4: Beyond Dreams**

If Harry had known how much he would enjoy using his powers openly around the TARDIS, he would have just levitated his cereal over to the table years ago and been done with it. It had always been the elephant in the room, so to speak, and now that his secret was out, Harry was able to throw himself into his 'studies' wholeheartedly.

He also found it immensely funny that he could amaze the Doctor of all people. The Time Lord was in the business of astounding and so didn't quite know how to deal with being astounded. For the first few months after Harry's confession, the Doctor had studied Harry's methods and cross-referenced his skills with every species in the known universe. After that, Amy and Rory thought they'd convinced him to give up and accept that Harry was just unique, but Harry doubted that the words 'give' and 'up' were in the Time Lord's vocabulary.

Harry well remembered the reaction he'd gotten from the Dursleys during the few times he'd lost control as a kid. That and the Angel incident meant that it had taken him a long time to not be afraid of his own abilities.

He'd been ten and lost in the TARDIS when he first learned that he could focus his power on any level. Somewhere between the Gallifreyan section of the library and the second swimming pool, the lights had gone off and it being the TARDIS, nothing was ever in the same spot as he remembered. He'd walked for what felt like miles by feeling the wall in the dark before he'd given up and slumped on the floor in defeat. Then the lights started.

They began - one in each palm - as tiny flames and floated up delicately into the air where they rested like lanterns. More golden than any fire he'd ever seen, they reminded Harry of the regeneration energy the Doctor had shown him –the glow had only lasted a second in the Time Lord's hands but Harry didn't think he'd ever seen anything so magical.

He hadn't been afraid, that day. His power felt warm and comfortable – friendly even – and he'd drawn more and more of the lights into the air until he had been able to find his way back to a recognisable corridor. He hadn't for the life of him been able to get them back down again though, so they had to have either faded with time or been rooted into another section of the TARDIS, probably for her own amusement.

That all changed when the dreams began.

.

.

.

 _It was hot, molten fire and he was at the centre of it all…. So much pain… But he would survive it, yes… It consumed him and then spread out as if to outline phantom limbs and the rush of it was exquisite…_

 _When the stone cooled in his hand Harry was standing. A slow smile spread across his face as he took in his new form. The feel of the yew in his right hand, delicate yet capable of so much power… He had waited long for this._

 _'_ _My Lord...'_

 _Harry turned coldly to look at the pathetic remains of the man, body crumpled and white bone protruding from the neck. Harry watched the blood pool around his head with fascination, like rubies gurgling up from deep within the man's throat…_

 _'_ _Please, my Lord…Help m-me….'_

 _Harry felt disgust rise up in him at the plea. He had suffered too long to tolerate weakness any longer. Now was the time for power…Nothing to stop him now…_

 _'_ _Let it not be said that I am unmerciful'…_

 _'_ _Th-thank you..my Lord..Thank' –_

 _'_ _Avada Kedavra!'_

Harry woke up gasping, a green light burned onto his eyelids and a cold, high voice ringing in his ears. He was drenched in sweat and shaking, but that was nothing to the agony in his forehead.

'Harry! Harry, it was a nightmare, just a dream…'

A soft hand touched his shoulder but Harry flinched away. The burning in his forehead hadn't relented and he moaned, leaning into both hands.

'There's something wrong with him' –

'Harry, is it your head?' –

Harry pulled himself up into a seated position on the bed, closing his eyes tightly, as if to block out the image of the blood. But he couldn't block out that feeling, of wanting to kill and _hurt_ and he couldn't look at either of them until he had…

'Just rest, we're not going anywhere'.

That was Amy's voice and her hand rubbing circles onto his back. Harry wanted to tell her not to touch him and he felt a sob rise up in his chest that had very little to do with the slowly ebbing pain.

'It was just a dream' he managed to choke out tonelessly when some time had passed, wanting desperately to believe it.

'A nightmare, more like'. Rory approached him from the end of the bed. 'We heard you screaming from our room'.

Harry didn't answer him. When he looked up again, he saw the Doctor standing in the doorway with something unreadable in his eyes. When their eyes met, he gave Harry a sad smile before leaving the room.

The next morning after a few hours of fitful sleep, Harry found the Doctor hanging from his swing under the glass floor of the console.

'Doctor?' he asked.

'Hello, Harry'. He smiled back at the eleven-year-old fondly. 'Grab a swing'.

Rocking backwards and forwards gently while the Doctor fiddled with a spanner, Harry found himself floundering for the right words.

'You know, when you're over a thousand years old' started the Doctor, breaking the silence suddenly, 'it's easy to forget how important a few years can be to a human. You're still so young. You all are, really'.

Harry didn't know what to say. It was times like these, when the Doctor's wild enthusiasm wasn't distracting you from really looking into his eyes, that he showed his true age.

'Last night…It was more than just a dream' said Harry. 'My scar was burning'.

'I know' said the Doctor sympathetically. 'The TARDIS energy stabilisers went mad'.

'What does it mean?' asked Harry helplessly. 'What's wrong with me? In the dream, it's like… like I wasn't even myself' –

'There is absolutely nothing wrong with you' said the Doctor, looking back at him with a sincerity which Harry found it almost impossible not to believe. 'Whatever happens, you are safe here. I can promise you that'.

Harry bit his lip, unconvinced.

'I looked up my parents, when I first came here' he admitted, feeling guilty bringing them up after so much time had passed. 'As soon as I knew how to work the console records. I think the TARDIS helped'.

'James and Lily' nodded the Doctor, savouring the names as if they belonged to long lost friends he had forgotten. 'Your mother seems to have dropped off the face of the earth after primary school, and your dad…'

'It's like he never even existed' finished Harry, a tightening in his throat.

'You'd be surprised how often that happens. I wouldn't worry about it'.

'But how do we know I'm not going to grow a second head or something?' said Harry with a grimace.

The Doctor laughed at that, returning to his work. 'Like a time head?' he asked. 'It wouldn't be that bad. I've never had a two-headed companion before'.

'Lucky you' snorted Harry.

'One thing about having two heads: you'd always have someone to talk to. There are worse things'.

The Doctor grasped Harry's shoulder comfortingly and then went back to work, letting Harry sit with him to unwind amongst the familiar din of the TARDIS in flight. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of the Time Lord tonight. He also knew, however, that as long as these unanswered questions continued to haunt Harry in his dreams, the Doctor would be doing everything he could to find out the truth. And for another four years, that was enough.


	5. In the Widening Gyre

**Chapter 5: In the Widening Gyre**

Harry warmed his hands on his favourite tea mug, listening to the pattering of raindrops against the kitchen window. The house was painfully silent. He watched wisps of steam rising from the hot drink in search of something, anything, he could say to this man to make it okay. But there was nothing.

'I always expected something like this …' said Brian, a broken smile gracing his features. The rain grew heavier.

'They had their adventures, those two. And I bet they never regretted one second with you and the Doctor' he said with a fierce pride in his voice. The effect was only slightly lessened by the unkempt nature of his appearance and the tired shadows underneath his eyes. Harry had known the second Brian answered the front door of the Ponds' London townhouse that he wouldn't have to break the news, but had only felt marginal relief. He didn't have room to feel much of anything these days. He had fallen into the man's warm hug gratefully just so that he wouldn't have to look him in the eyes.

'I've already had a visit from Anthony' –

'Anthony?' repeated Harry in confusion, his voice coming out hoarse from lack of use.

'I'm sorry, I thought you knew' wavered Brian. 'They... they adopted a son. He's a lovely man – older than me at this point but I reckon I've gotten used to strange when it comes to my grandkids, what with you and Melody'-

Harry winced at the words, suddenly finding it difficult to draw breath. Only the news that Amy and Rory had raised another child could convince him, finally, that they were dead. They hadn't died in an explosion or on some distant planet as Harry had always feared. They had lived themselves to death somewhere far away and unreachable. For his entire life, they had been living and dying in a removed past, had enjoyed full lives, as if Harry had blinked and missed them.

'I'm sure it's all in the letter' explained Brian, looking like he would have liked to comfort Harry but didn't know how. Harry could feel their letter burning a hole in his pocket but he couldn't bring himself to read it now, not while Amy's jacket was still sitting on the countertop.

'He has a family of his own now, of course. He was hoping you'd come over for tea, they live just down the road' –

'I can't stay' interrupted Harry, the words coming out of his mouth before the conviction had fully formed in his mind. Harry felt the now familiar guilt gnaw at his insides at the flash of hurt in the older man's eyes.

'Of course, you have the Doctor to be getting back to….' Brian brushed off his disappointment well and Harry nodded with a passable imitation at a smile. He felt a bitter laugh rise up in his chest but knew that it would lead to tears and he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to pull himself together again. So he let Brian believe the lie.

.

.

.

'That'll be two pounds fifty'.

'Sorry?' asked Harry distractedly, not having noticed the waitress's approach.

'For the coffee'.

'Oh, right' he mumbled, looking down at the forgotten cup in front of him. 'Can I get another, please?'

'Sure thing' she smiled, wandering off in the direction of the kitchen. Harry looked around him to find most of the tables empty, their occupants driven away by the cool breeze blowing in from the bay.

Harry had become a regular at the pavement café, often sitting out for hours on end in order to watch Roald Dahl Place in the desperate hope that someone would eventually reveal themself.

No one ever had.

Harry pulled the scanner from his jacket pocket and examined it under the table. Frustrated, he banged it against the table leg, but the energy levels in this area of Cardiff remained constant. Harry ran his hand agitatedly through his already scruffy hair, knowing that he couldn't go on for much longer. He needed a way to get in unnoticed, otherwise he wouldn't stand a chance. But for all he knew, the perception filter was a remnant of an abandoned base and he had been wasting his time.

Harry had already been scouting rift variances in the city for weeks before he wandered through the square by chance and felt that familiar nagging feeling in the back of his mind. From years of travelling with the Doctor, he knew not to trust that evasive instinct to ignore, to turn away, to leave well enough alone. With some concentration, he had been able to focus his sight on the floor panel and had finally thought he was on to something.

One extremely dull week later and he was running out of emergency money.

Half-heartedly sipping at his cold coffee, Harry watched a group of teenagers swerve in and out of the plass pylons on skateboards. A gnawing feeling of loneliness swept over him but Harry ignored it, focusing instead on the sight of a tall well-dressed man carrying a plastic carton of coffees across the way –

With a jerk, Harry stood up, nearly toppling his chair behind him. Haphazardly tossing a fiver onto the table, he ran to follow the man, who was dodging the kids to get to the hidden entrance. He was close and Harry swore, hoping that no one was watching him or if they were, that they had that humany habit of brushing off the impossible.

Stopping in his tracks momentarily, he scrunched up his face in concentration and felt that faint trickle of energy covering him from head to toe. Now invisible - if his practice had paid off - he sprinted towards the man in the suit and caught up with him just as he stepped onto the platform.

Harry managed to get a foothold before the lift began to sink down beneath the square, the white sky fading into darkness. Now that he had finally gotten a break, Harry had to purposefully slow down his breathing so that the other man wouldn't hear his excited breaths in the silence of their descent.

'I've brought coffees' his companion announced in a thick Welsh accent as he stepped out into a large underground chamber with Harry in tow.

'Got any pastries?' asked another man. He was dressed in a white coat and didn't look up from the tray of petri dishes he was examining.

'I thought we decided pastries were for the doctors around here who actually _cure_ Weevil flu. Positive reinforcement and all that' answered the other, stepping up to a work station and unloading the drinks while Harry crept silently forwards.

'I can think of more effective incentives' said a man in a blue shirt and braces, climbing down a set of stairs to join the other two. 'If Owen would learn to live a little'.

'I could sue for harassment for your kind of incentives' the doctor replied snarkily.

The American grinned cheekily and looked like he was about to retort before the door behind them slammed shut with a bang.

'Is Gwen down there?' asked Owen.

'No, she's in the morgue with Tosh' frowned the American, running forwards with the others two steps behind him. As soon as they had crossed the threshold, Harry used his powers to pull it closed again and hastily locked it. He did the same to the others in the room with just a jerk of the hand as the three men began to try and force the door back open.

Harry rushed over to the desk of computers and started typing furiously, as the banging and shouting grew in pitch. The system was heavily firewalled and Harry knew he didn't have time to work his way through it manually.

Calming his mind as best he could despite the noise, he placed a palm on the side of the computer and focused on what he wanted, trying to direct his energy through the records.

Harry froze as he felt a spike of pain in his scar, swaying slightly as he lost vision for a few seconds.

'Oh god, not now' he moaned, clutching at his forehead.

Harry heard a loud clang as something heavy was rammed into the metal door but a fresh wave of pain caused him to fall to his knees. As the pain pierced through his head with greater force, the room reeled around him and he thought he could hear himself screaming as he blacked out.

.

.

.

 _Harry screamed as he fought his way forwards, the old man's icy cage crumbling in the wake of his golden flames. He felt a rush of power and blasted its remains apart, finally finding himself face to face with his most hated enemy._

 _A smile curled across his face as he took in that look of fear. Fear which he had put there, after all this time…_

 _'_ _You've met your end, Dumbledore' he spat at the man, who lay sprawled across the floor, his body now as weak as his mind._

 _'_ _Tom'-_

 _'_ _THAT IS NOT MY NAME!' he screamed, arching his wand downwards viciously to pierce the man's frail bones._

 _'_ _How much will you take from them?' Dumbledore rasped. 'When will it ever be enough?'_

 _'_ _I' said Harry, his grin now feral as he stood over the man who had denied him everything, who had now lost... everything, 'will take everything from them' he finished coldly. 'But never matter, you will not have to witness it. Welcome death, Dumbledore' he goaded him, drawing his wand leisurely up to the man's chest, which was now rising and falling feebly._

 _Harry felt a thrill rush through him as he prepared to end his most powerful foe, that famous defiance finally cracking in the fool's last moments. He, if not Dumbledore, welcomed that green light –_

 _._

 _._

 _._

'Well, he's still passed out' said Owen, flopping into a chair.

'That's it? That's your diagnosis?' asked Ianto.

'Why don't _you_ go check on the possessed teenager? I'd rather not get my head blown up, thanks' said Owen sarcastically.

'Technically, it was the machines he blew up' offered Tosh from the security station.

'That's comforting'.

'Can somebody _please_ explain to me' said Jack, charging up the steps to the others, 'how the _hell_ a child just broke into our high security secret base?'

'He has to be alien, doesn't he?' asked Ianto.

'I'm looking up the security logs right now' said Tosh. 'The outside scans are showing nothing. And look at the video feed' she said, sliding the screen over to show them the footage.

'There's nothing there' said Gwen in confusion.

'Exactly, but look… there' she pointed out.

'He just…appeared' whispered Gwen. 'From thin air'.

'An alien with powers of invisibility' considered Owen. 'That's new'.

'I'm more worried about why he broke in in the first place' said Jack. 'Tosh, run the facial recognition software on the off-chance that he's human. Ianto, search the archives for any species with the ability to turn invisible. Owen' –

'Jack' interrupted Gwen.

'I want a full blood work-up. We don't want him dying on us before we find out what he came for' –

'Jack!'

Jack spun on his heels to find Gwen staring at the security feed of the Roald Dahl Plass entrance.

'There's somebody here'.

'Well, aren't we popular?' said Owen.

'What is he doing?' asked Jack, bewildered. He leaned in beside Gwen to get a closer look.

'I think… he's waving at us'.

.

.

.

'Doctor… what are you doing?' asked Clara, bemused, as the Time Lord jumped up and down on his toes with his hands in the air.

'I'm trying to be polite!' he exclaimed. 'Don't want to pop in unannounced. Ah, well, they must be having lunch' he said, finally stopping to readjust his waistcoat.

'Who must be having lunch?'

'Torchwood' explained the Doctor, grabbing Clara's hand and leading her across the square. 'An agency which deals with everything alien here on Earth. A friend of mine is running it these days, if I've got the date right. He's bound to have a temporal stabiliser lying around somewhere…'

'I know I'm new at this but shouldn't you be more worried?' asked Clara sceptically as she hurried to keep up with the Doctor's hectic pace. 'About the TARDIS…falling through a rift in time and space?' she felt the need to add at the Doctor's blank look.

'Oh, that. No, I wouldn't worry. These things have a way of working themselves out' he assured her. 'The TARDIS is too complex an organism to just swallow up and redistribute. If I'm correct, which historically I am, the rift will right itself and put her back right where we left her, no harm done. A stabiliser might just speed up the process.'

'You talk about the universe as if it's alive' mused Clara.

'Everything is, to a certain extent'.

'Where are we going, by the way?' she asked as they came to the door of a local tourist office.

'The visitor's entrance'.

The Doctor pulled the door open with a flourish and the pair of them walked into a quiet office, the bell clanging behind them.

'Hello? Anyone working here?' Clara called out, at which point the door behind the reception desk flew open to reveal a dark-haired woman with a gun.

'Don't move or I _will_ shoot' she warned them needlessly, just as an equally armed man charged in through the front door to cover them from behind.

'Another friend of yours?' asked Clara from the corner of her mouth.

'No need!' said the Doctor, raising his hands above his head. 'Look – we're extremely unarmed. I'm the Doctor, and you must be Team Torchwood! Lovely to meet you' he said after an awkward pause.

'The Doctor?' asked Gwen, narrowing her eyes. 'Do you mean you're _a_ doctor or is that just some stupid title you've given yourself?'

'Oi, I don't make fun of your name, do I?' frowned the Doctor. 'What's your name, then?'

'CP Gwen Cooper'.

'Right. Well, there's not much material for comedy, there' admitted the Doctor.

'Alright, that's enough' interrupted Owen. 'Follow the nice lady downstairs, or we can save ourselves some time and shoot you here instead'.

The Doctor and Clara quickly decided on the former option, descending into the depths of the institute and entering the main Hub, where the rest of the team were waiting for them.

'Hello Jack!' waved the Doctor affably. 'I see you've redecorated. I don't like it'.

'Do you know him?' asked Tosh.

'I never forget a face' denied Jack, studying the new arrivals. 'Especially one like that'.

'Oh, don't start' complained the Doctor, Jack's eyes flashing back to him in surprise.

'I thought you said he was a friend' hissed Clara, very conscious of the gun still pointing at her head.

'Well, he was, but I had a different face back then' supplied the Doctor. 'It can be a tad inconvenient'.

'A different what?' –

'Doctor?' asked Jack, his face splitting into a smile at the realisation.

'Wait – _your_ Doctor?' asked Gwen, lowering her gun. 'As in' -

'Indeed I am' smiled the Doctor. 'You're looking well, Jack – oomph!'

The Doctor's words were cut short as Jack ran up to him and engulfed him in an enthusiastic hug.

'I should have known, with an outfit like that' he said suggestively, looking the Doctor over at an arm's length. 'That bow tie's really working for you'.

'Bowties are cool' agreed the Doctor, the turn of phrase slipping from his lips automatically and pulling him back to days gone by.

'They sure are' smirked Jack, oblivious to the Doctor's preoccupations as he turned to shake Clara's hand with a sly grin. 'I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And you must be…?'

'Just ignore him, Clara' advised the Doctor sternly.

'Clara, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman'.

'Not that this isn't heart-warming' interrupted Owen. 'But don't you think we have more important things to be looking into right now? Namely you-know-who in the you-know-what?'

'Right' agreed Jack. 'I don't suppose you brought an epileptic teen with you, Doctor?'

'Not that I can remember, anyway' answered Clara, noticing something odd flicker in the Doctor's eyes. 'Why?'

'We had a security breach earlier today' he explained. 'A kid managed to get past our defences and then collapsed before he could get what he came for. You can thank him for your warm welcome'.

'What did he look like?' asked the Doctor, his smile vanishing before their eyes.

'Quite skinny, black hair' Gwen told him. 'Possibly alien, though he looked human enough'.

'With a weird looking scar on his forehead' added Owen.

The Doctor paled and Clara placed a questioning hand on his shoulder.

'Where is he?' he asked with urgency.

'We left him in one of our holding cells downstairs' answered Jack, exchanging a concerned look with Clara. 'He's still unconscious… Doctor?'

The Doctor ran straight for the steps, taking them two at a time as the others rushed after him. He walked straight past the first two cells, where unhinged Weevils pounced at the glass between them.

The Doctor froze and stared uncomprehendingly in at the last cell.

Harry was sitting on the edge of a camp bed, slouched forward onto his elbows. He was pale and sickly looking, the Doctor noticed with concern, but worse than that was the blank look in his eyes when he noticed the Time Lord, holding his gaze for only a second before drawing his eyes back down to the floor.

'Harry?' he whispered, to no effect.

'Let him out. Now' he said in a louder voice.

'No bloody way' protested Owen. 'He nearly blew up the Hub and us along with it!'

'Leave it' Harry croaked.

'Harry' –

'I can't control it anymore, Doctor' he interrupted, too exhausted to listen to another empty platitude. 'Did I… did I hurt anyone?' he asked, afraid of the answer.

'No' replied the Doctor softly. 'You never could'.

Harry laughed disbelievingly at that and lowered his head back into his hands.

'Is it still hurting?'

'It's manageable.'

'Doctor' said Clara, her glaze flickering anxiously between the two of them. 'Who is' –

'You've got to be kidding me' groaned Harry.

'I'm sorry?' asked Clara, temporarily thrown. Harry ignored her and stared accusingly up at the Doctor.

'Is this how it goes, then? Are we that unimportant in the grand scheme of things - that you can just change your clothes, pick up someone new to travel around with and it's like we never existed?'

'Of course not' denied the Doctor, but the shock and sorrow in his voice only served to make Harry angrier. 'I-I-I don't understand – we decided you would stay with Brian'.

'And what would that look like?' asked Harry, aghast. 'I'm just supposed to pretend none of this is happening and…what, do my GCSEs?'

'Doctor, can we give you some privacy?' interrupted Jack, looking uncomfortable. 'Is it safe, I mean?'

'Don't let me out. It's definitely not safe' said Harry fiercely.

'I don't believe that' said the Doctor, just as stubborn.

'Doctor, can I speak to you for a minute?' asked Clara sharply. When Harry didn't react and returned to his earlier practice of staring at the cell floor, he nodded and followed Clara to the end of the hallway, where their voices were drowned out by the crazed Weevils.

'Is that boy your son?' she asked accusingly.

'What? No' he denied. 'Sort of. We took him in, me and the Ponds'.

'And you just left him, when they died?' she asked, her disappointment evident in her tone.

'It's not that simple' sighed the Doctor in frustration. 'There are things going on here, things that _I_ don't even understand. I don't know how to keep him safe, Clara, I don't know how to be…a parent'.

'He just broke into what I understand is a super-secret spy organisation' she spluttered. 'That boy doesn't need a parent, he needs a friend. He needs you, Doctor'.

The Doctor turned his head to watch the Weevil next to them, who was scratching elaborate contours into the window with his nails in an effort to reach them.

'He blames me, Clara' he admitted. 'And he's right to'.

.

.

.

 _'_ _We didn't start in a graveyard. What are we doing here?' asked Amy._

 _'_ _Don't know' answered the Doctor, putting out the last of the fires their collision with 1938 had wrought on the TARDIS. 'Probably causally linked somehow. Doesn't matter. Extractor fans on!'_

 _Pulling the door shut behind the three of them, the Doctor started erratically pulling levers at the console as Amy continued to leaf through the book for mentions of Rory._

 _'_ _And you're sure it's the Weeping Angels?' she asked, casting a worried glance in Harry's direction as he steadied the interior stabilisers for the Doctor._

 _'_ _I'm afraid so, Pond' he answered, hurriedly spinning his way between console panels. 'This is going to be a bumpy ride, you two. I'll need help, so pay attention! Amy, hold onto this coupling here and whatever you do, don't let it slip' he said, steering her over to the console. 'Harry, will you grab me a spare pair of inertial dampers from the engine room? These ones have burned right through and I'd rather not spend eternity trapped in temporal flux if I can avoid it. Amy, grab this lever for me.'_

 _After a pause, the Doctor looked over her shoulder and then pressed a button, sealing all entrances to the console room._

 _'_ _Doctor?' asked Amy in confusion._

 _'_ _Why do you think the Weeping Angels came after Rory?' he asked, abruptly abandoning his work at the console._

 _'_ _I don't know' –_

 _'_ _Maybe it was random, maybe' continued the Doctor fiercely, holding onto her shoulders. 'I certainly hope so. But if there's even a chance' –_

 _'_ _You think they're here for Harry' realised Amy with a pang._

 _'_ _I don't know' he admitted. 'But we know they have some sort of interest in him and whatever happens to us or to Rory,' –_

 _'_ _We keep Harry safe' finished Amy._

 _They both looked over once more at the corridor Harry had taken, the exit now nothing more than a solid wall too thick for any sound to escape through._

 _'_ _He'll hate us for this' said Amy._

 _'_ _I know'._

 _Hours later, it had been River leading the Doctor up the TARDIS steps to the left corridor, his hand gone limp in her own. She entered the security code into the wall panel, without a word passing between the two of them. The groaning of the metal as it shifted back open had echoed in the relative quiet of the ship._

 _It was as they had left it._

 _Harry was sitting sprawled on the floor looking exhausted, his back resting against the wall. His eyes shot open as they approached and he made as if to stand until he saw the Doctor's face._

 _'_ _Doctor, where are...'_

 _Harry looked at River for confirmation._

 _At the sight of the teenager's stunned face she finally let herself shed tears for the parents that neither of them had known for quite long enough._

 _'_ _No' Harry denied tonelessly, trying to catch the Doctor's eye, willing him to explain, to make sense of things as he always did._

 _The Doctor stepped forward heavily and sank down onto the floor next to him, drawing his knees up to himself and finally collapsing into the pain, for once not caring who saw him fall apart._

.

.

.

The Doctor dragged a chair over and set it down in front of Harry's cell, the two of them alone in their own thoughts until the Doctor could bring himself to speak.

'It's been a while longer for me, I think' he said eventually, Harry not reacting to the sound.

'Since I left you at the house' he continued. 'I was alone for a very long time, you see. I thought I'd retired for good'.

'Retired?' repeated Harry with disbelief, still not raising his gaze 'You can't just retire all of… it's who you are'.

'Why did you break into Torchwood?' asked the Doctor curiously.

'I wanted to see if there was a match somewhere, in their records...' he explained, looking embarrassed. 'For what I can do'.

'Harry...'

'I know, I know' he shook his head angrily. 'It was stupid. I just…' Harry was having difficulty forming the words, having pushed his worries down deep inside himself in the hopes that help would eventually catch up to them.

'I think it's getting worse'.

'What is?' asked the Doctor fearfully.

'The visions… stronger, I mean. Since Amy and Rory' –

Harry's eye widened as he let the names slip, having not said those particular words aloud since the four of them had been sitting out in Central Park, back when everything made sense even when it didn't. He had been afraid of this, of the grief creeping up on him and refusing to let go.

'Harry' said the Doctor sadly. 'I know…I know you can't forgive me any time soon. But I can still help you, if you'll let me'.

'Forgive you?' repeated Harry, baffled. 'But they weren't even there for - how can _you_ forgive _me_?' he asked desperately, forcing himself to really look at the one face he had been avoiding. 'When it's all…it's all my fault. It's my fault that they're gone'.

As Harry finally gave in to the tears, allowed the pain to overwhelm him completely, he could feel something else rising up to the surface, that familiar something that he knew from his dreams.

It was repulsed. It was wrapped up in the excruciating agony of his grief.

It was fighting back.

Harry found himself unable to make a noise as his head exploded with pain.

The Doctor shielded his face with an arm instinctively as the glass wall of the cell shattered in a cascade of broken shards.

'Doctor!'

'Leave him!' shouted the Time Lord as Jack and his team ran down the hall, their guns at the ready. He stepped over the glass and crouched down to cradle Harry's head where it had landed on the hard ground. He was unnaturally still.

'Harry? Can you hear me?'

'Doctor, he's gone white' said Clara.

'You!' shouted the Doctor, pointing at Owen who was standing defensively at the furthest wall from the broken cell. 'You're a doctor, you can help him'.

'Is that a good idea?' Gwen asked Jack hesitantly.

'This child is fifteen years old, now help him!'

Cursing, Owen lowered his gun at a nod from Jack.

'I should get paid extra for this'.

He kneeled down next to the teen and found a weak pulse, then put his hand on the boy's forehead, only to pull it back immediately at a sharp burst of pain on his palm.

'The little bugger burned me!'

'Way to take one for the team' said Jack unsympathetically. 'Doctor, is there anything we should be doing right now? It's just that we're underneath a busy city so if there are any more explosions pending…'

But the Doctor was barely listening, was instead watching the erratic rise and fall of Harry's chest as he inhaled and exhaled shakily. He began to stir faintly as Owen examined his head wound.

Managing to open one eye through the pain, for a second he could see the Doctor hovering above his head, saying something unintelligible as distant shadows swam in and out of focus around him. Then his eyes rolled back into his head and Harry could find no reason now not to give into the dark.


	6. Never the Twain Shall Meet

_'_ _I never know why, I only know who' – the Doctor._

 **Chapter 6: Never the Twain Shall Meet**

The howling of a sudden breeze as it blew in from the western plains shook the hanging baskets out front and caused the woman's torch to billow and give out. Now in darkness, she pulled her cloak tighter to her throat and hurried to board up the windows before nightfall. Across the street and softened in shadow, neighbours set up wooden boards and hurried to their beds. Then she was alone in the street; just her, the banging of shutters and the melodic wailing of the wind which she might even come to like in time.

Once inside, she draped the cloak over a chair. It was late, but she had work to finish and there was no better time for that than now, with the sudden quiet of the house still heavy and present in her mind.

Inside her greenhouse, a pot toppled over and shattered audibly on the stone floor.

'Mason, is that you?' she called out.

Opening the door, she stopped dead at the sight in front of her.

It didn't take long to get over the shock.

'No' she said coldly, closing the door behind her and pointedly averting her eyes to focus on the ingredients she had set out earlier that day at the mortar and pestle.

'You don't even know what I'm going to ask you' argued the Doctor with exasperation.

'I know that you're here when I specifically told you never to find me'.

'Please, Elysia. I had no other choice' said the Doctor in a broken voice, which caught her attention. There was helplessness in the Time Lord's expression, which was new, but genuine need alone would not be enough and never had been, not in her experience.

Besides, the sight of that great blue box parked behind him was like a slap in the face.

'You have a universe of help to choose from' she said, selecting a knife to finish chopping the echinacea. 'There is no aid I could give that you couldn't find somewhere else and at far less risk. Besides, you broke my viburnum pot' she accused, pointing to the scattered leaves on the floor.

'I'll bring you a dozen viburnum pots next time' -

'There will under no circumstances be a next time, Doctor' she said, her eyes flashing.

'He's like you, Elysia' he tried, before backtracking quickly at her challenging look. 'Well, not exactly, but you're the closest I can find and believe me, I've searched everywhere. I didn't know where else to bring him. I think you can help, maybe teach him to control his abilities. If you'd just take some time to talk to him' –

'He's here now?' she asked, eyes widening.

'It was a very stressful situation!' defended the Doctor. 'And no one knows I'm here. I made sure to arrive during the storm to block out the TARDIS' –

'Doctor' she interrupted harshly, distantly aware that she still held a knife in her hand but not really caring if he felt threatened. 'Where is he?'

'Waiting patiently in the study for your instruction' he said. 'You'll like that about him, he's very polite…'

Elysia had already crossed the greenhouse to enter the room in question where, sure enough, a teenaged boy was sitting on the chair opposite her desk, downtrodden and oblivious to her presence for the time being. He turned his head, seemingly to get a closer look at her collection of bottled solutions on the far wall and she caught a momentary glimpse of his face in the light of the candle before him.

It felt like a longer walk back to the Doctor, her heart racing as it was. He seemed to notice her speechlessness and was studying her carefully, evidently trying to gauge if it was a good or a bad thing.

'I'll take him' she said eventually, a tightening in her throat.

'You will?' he asked hopefully.

'On one condition' she said, her eyes narrowing. 'You leave now. And you promise that this time it will be for good'.

She expected him to adopt his usual lack of tact and try to bargain with her but to her surprise, he nodded grimly in agreement.

'Thank you' he said with a look of profound relief. 'His name is Harry. And you won't regret this'.

'I sincerely doubt that, Doctor' she said. 'Although I'm not quite the monster you imagine me to be – I'll give you five minutes to say your goodbyes'.

'I've already said my goodbyes' admitted the Doctor, stepping over the broken shards on the ground to get to the TARDI.

'You were so sure I'd agree?' she asked with annoyance.

'I hoped' he said. 'Because I know you, Elysia, perhaps more than you can understand. And you are no monster'.

Elysia went stubbornly back to work, only raising her head when that distinctive wheezing sound failed to arrive. Sure enough, he was still hovering at the TARDIS' open front door, staring at her with an intensity which startled her.

'What is it?' she asked.

'You recognised his scar' he said in a low voice. 'You know what it means, don't you?'

'I do' she said after a beat. 'But you should be careful, Doctor. Some things are better left to uncertainty.'

'Not this' he said.

Elysia sighed heavily, hoping she would not live to regret this. 'Very well, Doctor. But do not blame me if the knowledge does more harm than good. The boy carries the mark of death'.

To his credit, the Doctor showed no outward sign of shock, only grave determination as he nodded once more - even gratefully - and dematerialised for what Elysia hoped would truly be the last time.

.

.

.

Harry fidgeted nervously in the next room, running the Doctor's last words through his head on repeat. He could feel the home box lining his jacket pocket and was comforted by the fact that he could return to the TARDIS any time he liked. But did he even want to go back?

 _Of course you do,_ he thought reflexively, not even needing a second to think it over. Contrary to what he'd been telling himself for the past few months, the TARDIS was his home, with or without the Ponds. It was the only home he had ever known, in any case.

His brooding was interrupted by the sudden entrance of a tall woman with straw-coloured hair pulled back loosely from her face. He couldn't help but think Elysia rather severe at first glance with that stern brow and the high, starched collar peeking over her blood red robes. The fact that she was ignoring him in favour of piling a tray high with some of those delicate jars from her desk was only reinforcing his initial impression.

'Hi' he said nervously, standing up automatically. She said nothing, but raised a small bottle with some sort of amber liquid up to the light of the flame - so no electricity, then.

'The Doctor' he tried again. 'He told me that' –

'Sit' she said tersely.

'Alright then'.

Crossing over to where he was sitting, she clasped both of her hands on either side of his head without warning and closed her eyes in concentration. Harry, who was thoroughly uncomfortable at this point, recoiled as the pain in his head doubled for a second before it settled again and her face relaxed.

She pulled away immediately and handed him a bottle of something thick and the colour of rust. He looked down at it warily.

'It's for the headache' she explained, noticing his hesitancy. 'Would it help if I said it wasn't poisoned? Unless you brought your own food, you'll have to eat what we give you here'.

'So you think you can fix me?' he asked hopefully.

'Drink' she urged him, preoccupying herself with a display of herbs in the cabinet behind him.

Harry did so and was surprised to feel the steady throbbing in his forehead dull and disappear almost instantly.

'Thank you' he said gratefully, putting the bottle back down on the desk.

'I don't want to know when you're from or where you're from' she said without further ado, sitting down opposite him. 'In return, I would like the same courtesy provided to me. We are a private people and do not tolerate outsiders - indiscriminately' she said, reinforcing the last word.

'Are we talking general unfriendliness or' –

'All outsiders are killed' she said, with little delicacy as Harry gaped at her. 'It is for our own protection and I am not about to debate it with you. If you truly want to learn how to control your energy, then you will have to stay in the house at all times. You can trust my son and I to stay quiet'.

Momentarily putting aside the fact that he was putting his life in the hands of a woman who by all evidence disliked him – which, admittedly, was not all that unusual an occurrence for Harry – he felt a growing sense of hope that maybe Elysia knew what she was talking about.

'You call it energy' Harry pointed out. 'So you know what this is, what's wrong with me?'

'I am not the one to answer that question' she said. 'We may have similar abilities to you but ours are cursory at best. We can produce small fields of energy which we usually channel into the earth – I'm a botanist if you haven't noticed yet - while yours is something… stronger, I think' she finished, looking closely at him for the first time as if she was pondering him deeply. 'I can teach you to channel it as we do, which may help'.

'But you don't know for sure?' frowned Harry. 'Or even how long it might take?'

'Time will tell, I suppose' she said indifferently. 'For now, light this candle' she said, picking one up at random and handing it to him.

Harry, not exactly impressed with her first test of sorts, lit the candle easily with a twitch of his hand.

'Now hold it like that until I come back' she said, before standing and picking up the tray she'd prepared beforehand.

'What?' asked Harry with annoyance, still exhausted from his recent unconsciousness and not trusting her to come back again anytime soon. 'But how does that help?'

'Your energy is juvenile' she said. 'Powerful, certainly, but – as I imagine - also prone to outbursts when you least expect it?' she guessed. Harry nodded his confirmation, albeit begrudgingly.

'Steady it, contain it, for a long period of time' she said, heading for the door. 'Sustainability is your first step towards self-control'.

'What if I set fire to your desk?' asked Harry, not altogether joking.

'There's a jug of water in the corner' she said curtly before slamming the door shut behind her.

Harry glared down at the flame, which had already started to flicker uncontrollably towards the books on Elysia's desk, and vaguely noticed that the pain in his scar was coming back. He was not surprised.

.

.

.

An hour and a half later, Harry couldn't help but appreciate the irony of his new sleeping quarters.

'You'll have to sleep in the store cupboard, I'm afraid' said Elysia as she guided him down a set of stone steps by the light of a torch. 'It would be too risky to keep you out in the open during the night'.

The room itself was larger than that of the Dursley residence, granted, but it was also inexplicably damp and cold, as if they had travelled farther underground than Harry had thought. The walls were lined end to end with open shelves, full to the brim with an array of empty plant pots and large jars containing thickened pastes and tonics as well as herbs and spices that left a thick smell of incense hanging in the air. Harry plopped down his borrowed set of blankets onto the floor, which cast up an answering cloud of dust.

'Thank you for everything' he told her, his brain belatedly catching up to the fact that he might yet find a way to escape his visions once and for all. He also might have been mistaking exhaustion for optimism but at that point he was too close to the prospect of sleep to care.

'I'll be gone in the morning, as will my son for the early deliveries'; she carried on as if she hadn't heard him. 'You won't meet him until the evening meal. You'll have the run of the house tomorrow, but stay away from the entrance hall at the north end– it's the only one with windows'.

'Right' he said awkwardly. 'Goodnight, then'.

Giving a stiff nod, she left him to fumble blindly in the dark for his bag, which was made up of odds and ends that the Doctor had hurriedly pulled together while Harry was still unconscious, no doubt containing two fezzes and no toothbrush.

When he finally lay back onto the floor and draped the blanket over his middle for warmth, Harry had little time to think before he fell into the veils of sleep but if he did think at all, it was probably of the Doctor, who he would join eventually, he knew that now. Secure in the knowledge that the universe would still be there for him when he got back, Harry knew he could wait as long as it took.

If there was one thing a Pond was good for, it was waiting.


	7. Thus Bad Begins

**Chapter 7: Thus Bad Begins and Worse Remains Behind**

Harry woke up feeling refreshed the next morning, which was very unlike him.

If he had been at all troubled by dreams during the night, he had since forgotten them, which - without anyone around to complain about his incoherent rambling - amounted to the same thing, really. The Doctor could go on as long as he liked about the pursuit of knowledge and all its joys but to a human mind, ignorance might yet turn out to be the better option.

A quick inspection confirmed Harry's suspicions about his luggage. In addition to his spare glasses and the fittingly named home box, the Doctor had packed another change of clothes, a football (possibly signed by Nabokov, but it was difficult to make out) as well as an introductory guide to beekeeping, which he half-suspected might be a clue as to his whereabouts but could just as easily be the Doctor's idea of a light read.

At a loss for what to do until Elysia's return, Harry decided to explore what he could of the house in the hopes of learning more about his host. He might at the very least figure out which solar system he'd materialised in, which was always a good thing to know, as a rule.

He quickly gave up on this plan, however; the building itself told him nothing about the botanist beyond what he already knew, and if she hadn't mentioned her son Harry might have mistaken it for a workshop rather than a home.

He couldn't shake the feeling that everything was temporary; the lack of personal belongings, the sparse furniture, even the walls themselves seemed to Harry makeshift and shoddily built. The one thing that was obviously cared for was the greenhouse, which turned out to be much more extensive than Harry had thought on arrival.

He wasn't exactly a fan of gardening – it reminded him too much of his Aunt Petunia to be in any way enjoyable. Nevertheless, some of the plants might have been carnivorous enough to maintain his interest if a toothy purple shrub hadn't taken offence and proceeded to bark at him until he left the room.

The rest of the house was open to him as promised, but he saw fit to avoid the wing he'd been warned about as well as two locked rooms that were most likely bedrooms. If he was going to really commit to snooping, that would have been the place to start and no simple door bolt would have gotten in his way; but in the end, he decided to respect their privacy as a show of good faith (or quite possibly as a result of the keen survival instincts he'd picked up running away from Daleks – like them, Elysia didn't seem the type to give second chances).

At the heart of the building and serving as its only source of natural light was an open, grassy courtyard. Assuming it really was morning, this planet's day brought with it a faded crimson glow and a warm, heady breeze that Harry couldn't quite place. Even unfamiliar – and perhaps for that very reason – the open sky was incredibly reassuring to Harry.

Less so was his first session with Elysia.

'This is worse than I thought' she said, throwing a jug of water at his face.

'What was that for?' he spluttered angrily.

'I had to calm you down somehow, you were on fire'.

'I _told_ you it wasn't a good idea to keep pushing it!' he reminded her, brushing off most of the water from his face and now sopping t-shirt. His headache was returning at the loss of that warm drowsiness he had been growing so fond of. 'Once my scar starts to hurt, it'll only get worse until I pass out' –

'And why do you think that is?' she asked with a challenging look.

'Why do I lose consciousness, you mean?' he asked. 'Do you… do your people not do that, then?'

'I'm not interested in your biology' she said with a long suffering sigh. 'I'm asking why you feel the need to protect your mind by losing consciousness in the first place'.

'It's not a choice' he said with confusion.

'I don't think that's completely true' she said, ruminating on something. 'What do you think it is – these visions into a stranger's mind?'

'I don't know, a demon?' he guessed wildly. 'My alter ego? Maybe I was bitten by a radioactive ferret in infancy… does it matter?'

'It matters if you're afraid to face it'.

'I think I'm just the right amount of afraid' he rebutted. 'It's pure evil. And it's not like I've been sheltered my whole life – I know what evil looks like. But… it's different when you're the one feeling it'.

'You can't beat a foe that you're too afraid to look at' she said unsympathetically. 'If you continue to resist these visions, you're going to find that your magic' –

'Magic?' repeated Harry with an amused smirk.

'It's as good a word as any. Does it bother you?'

'No, I just… it's a word for things people don't understand. I've _seen_ magic, and the scientific explanation behind the magic is usually the best part' he said.

'Whatever you want to call it, the pain and the prevalence of your other self only grow stronger with the use of your powers. I believe that if you face it head on, you might be able to overcome it'.

'Or it could take control' said Harry doubtfully. He really would have preferred an approach that didn't involve the possibility of him becoming his own evil twin.

'Not if you refrained from using your magic at all' she said, growing more confident as she considered the idea. 'We've seen a clear link between the two, so building up a mental block against your powers just might keep it at bay' –

'Wait, you want me never to use my magic again?'

'I thought you disliked that word' she reminded him.

'Well, whatever it is, it's magical and I want to keep it!' he argued, growing heated as he realised just how true that really was.

The idea of never using it again was unacceptable to Harry and would have been more personal a loss than that of an arm or a leg. What was he without it? Maybe seven years ago the idea of normalcy would have been appealing. But it was what made him important – useful, even – and without it he might have been killed at age eight without having seen anything of the world beyond the suburbs of Surrey.

'There's such a thing as sacrifice' said Elysia coldly.

'I know that!'

'Well then I suggest that you consider what's more important to you – protecting your ability to levitate a table or learning how to protect the people around you from harm' she said, growing visibly angry with him. 'If you're not willing to make that happen, then I'll have to rethink your living in my house at all!'

The session didn't last much longer after that.

Long after Elysia had stormed out of her own office, Harry remained to fume and pace at will. His clothes were slightly singed from his meltdown as well as soaked through to the skin. When the damp started to get to him, he raised his palm, and sure enough, there was plenty of fire still throbbing beneath the surface. He dried his clothes in the space of a few seconds, newly appreciative of his ability to do so now that there was a very real possibility he'd have to give it up.

At that thought, he began to find himself irresistibly drawn to the home box in his jacket pocket, which he'd been careful to keep on his person at all times.

The thing was made of silictone and fit neatly into his palm. Harry pressed his thumb into the lever at the top and the sides opened up to reveal a big red button, which was comically large in a way that could hardly have been practically designed.

Pressing it would mean locking onto the TARDIS' location and instantly rerouting to the console room. Harry might even have been tempted to do just that, but any momentary lapse was cut short by the realisation that the on-light was blank.

As in out of range.

Harry, without any superior explanation, settled for banging the side of the home box against the table, without even a flicker in response. It was supposedly capable of connecting to the TARDIS no matter where or when he was and without it Harry was trapped in a windowless house without any idea of how to get back.

Just getting into the throes of his panic, the door to the office creaked open and Harry jumped, turning around to see the slightly sunburned face of a tall blond boy who looked to be about his age. He was dressed in robes like Elysia's over what looked like plain work clothes and boots.

'Sorry to interrupt, I just figured my mum might have forgotten to feed you' he said with an awkward smile, carrying a bowl of an unidentified brown soup into the room.

'Oh, thanks' said Harry distractedly, rising to take it from him and placing it on the table. 'I'm Harry, by the way'.

'Yeah, I know' he said. 'Mason. Sorry, but… are you alright?' he asked, evidently noticing the tension in the room and glancing at the still open home box in Harry's other hand.

'Yeah, I'm… actually no' admitted Harry from sheer frustration. 'My one way out of here isn't working and I'll probably be killed if I leave this house, so it looks I'll be living in your store room indefinitely'.

'Well that's no good' said Mason with a frown. 'What is that thing, anyway, a vortex manipulator?'

'You know what a vortex manipulator is?' asked Harry with some surprise.

'Let me guess, you thought we were from a lot earlier on' he said knowingly. 'It's the clothes, isn't it? Well, we're not - just _painfully_ traditional'.

'Right'.

'I think I might be able to help with that' he said, pointing to the home box. 'Do you want to see something?'

'Sure' said Harry with raised eyebrows. 'Won't the soup go cold?'

'I made it' said Mason offhandedly. 'It'll be just as bad cold. Come on'.

Harry followed a tight-lipped Mason back through the greenhouse to the set of steps leading down into the store cupboard. Handing Harry his torch, he bent down in the far corner behind a row of shelves and pulled back a trap door in the floor that Harry hadn't noticed through the layer of dust. Another set of steps led further underground.

'These connect into the tunnels' explained Mason bending down beside the entrance 'They run the length of the town. People don't usually come down this end so you won't get into any trouble… as long as you don't tell my mum, that is' he amended with a nervous grin.

'Won't she notice we're missing?'

'Nah, there's a Council meeting on tonight. They'll be at it for hours'.

He seemed to mistake Harry's curiosity for reluctance because he quickly added 'It's completely up to you, though'.

'No, I'll come' Harry said enthusiastically, noticing the smell of sulphur in the air and the unmistakeable sound of running water from somewhere down below.

'Good' smiled Mason, taking back the torch and stepping forwards into the unknown darkness as if he'd done it a million times before.

Harry followed close behind the other boy to keep within the light of the torch, the rocky floor flickering in and out of sight as they followed a descending path.

'So you're one of the Doctor's, then?' asked Mason from up ahead as they walked.

'Yeah, I guess so' said Harry, trying not to trip on the raggedly cut rocks beneath his feet. 'How do you know the Doctor?'

'The usual way' said Mason. 'He saved our lives – helped us relocate when the Pyroviles invaded - most of us, anyway'.

'You're refugees?' asked Harry.

'She really didn't tell you anything, did she?' he asked, pausing to look over his shoulder at Harry for a moment. 'We've been invaded by everyone – the Nestenes, the Axons, the Sontarans at least a dozen times – not that I remember it, we've been here since I was seven. It's just another wonderful tradition of ours'.

'I'm sorry' said Harry with sympathy.

'Don't be. It's only the Elders who are really bothered about it now, though mum doesn't like to talk about it much. I think we're getting close' he pointed out.

Up ahead, Harry could spot a silver glow coming from around the corner. They continued walking, silently now, as the narrow tunnel opened up into a wide, lit chamber up ahead. The sound of quickly running water began to drown out that of their footsteps.

'This is strictly forbidden, yeah?' muttered Mason, blowing out the now unnecessary torch. 'And it's easy to get lost if you don't know your way around, so I wouldn't go exploring by yourself if I were you'.

But Harry had stopped listening by the time they rounded the corner. He paused to take in the near blinding sight ahead of them.

A wide river was rushing headlong through the cave, which towered above them at a cavernous height of fifty feet. For a moment Harry thought the water was luminous but as his eyes began to readjust, he realised that the river was carrying what looked like thousands of silver lights, swept along like leaves.

'It's beautiful – like stars' grinned Harry, as the entire cave flickered and sparkled with their reflection on the glossy walls. He stepped forward and bent down by the bank to dip his hand in, the beads of light passing through his fingers weightlessly. 'Where does it come from?'

'It's us' said Mason somewhat proudly. 'Embedded into the soil. Mum at least told you that we transfer energy into the earth, right?'

'She mentioned something about it' said Harry with a questioning look. 'Can you really..?'

'What?' asked Mason, before he caught onto Harry's meaning. 'Oh, that'.

He crouched down at the edge of the embankment and dipped in his hand. Looking closely, Harry could see another, larger beam of that same light forming in his palm before it dispersed into the water like the rest.

'It's not much' said Mason with embarrassment. 'At most, I get to work on the tonics and medicines that mum's too busy for – it makes the soil habitable, see? It's passed into the ground over the years so that we can get pretty much anything to grow these days'.

'It's brilliant' said Harry sincerely. Seeing the other boy create something similar to his own particular form of magic had affected him more than expected. If he was honest with himself, he had been feeling more alone than he'd ever admit to the Doctor.

'It runs right around the edge of the town – blocks out any communication' Mason carried on. 'It's also the reason your vortex manipulator's not working'.

'So there's no way out?' asked Harry.

'It should be fine once you get outside of town' Mason shrugged. 'Look, when the time comes, I'll take you through the tunnels. They run a few miles past the town lines'.

'Really?' asked Harry. 'That'd be great, thanks. Not that I'm desperate to leave or anything…'

'Yeah, right' snorted Mason disbelievingly. 'There's not much going on around here entertainment-wise…and you've probably been all over the place with the Doctor. What's he like, by the way?'

'I thought you met him' said Harry pointedly. 'He's not exactly subtle'.

'I met him for about a second' corrected Mason. 'He helped most of our ships get away in time but it was a woman travelling with him who really saved us. She came back at the last moment, when we thought we were as good as dead. A woman named Martha – do you know her?'

'No, I never met her' admitted Harry. 'But I've heard all about her from the Doctor. You're not the only one she saved, not by a long shot'.

'Yeah, I bet' said Mason with something akin to awe. 'She was the first person to really tell me what's out there – the people here, they like to keep to themselves. I reckon they're terrified someone will notice us eventually and we'll have to start all over again somewhere else'.

'Yeah, I got that impression' said Harry, beginning to feel a bit guilty about how he'd dismissed Mason's mother earlier. Was he putting them in danger just by being here? Just like he'd put the Ponds in danger by running off with them before he'd been old enough to even realise he was doing it. But he wasn't a child anymore.

'I wouldn't worry about it' said Mason, seemingly catching on to Harry's morbid line of thought. 'It's overkill, if you ask me. And I wouldn't take my mum too seriously either. She's like that with everyone'.

'Yeah, I'm probably reading too much into it' reflected Harry.

'No, she hates you' said Mason with a laugh. 'She's just like that with everyone'.

As the two began to trade stories, with the comforting presence of the lambent river flowing past them and echoing off the cavern walls, Harry couldn't help but agree with the Doctor's favourite platitude – there were worse things, after all.

.

.

.

'How does this work, then?' asked Harry, failing spectacularly to mask his dread.

The skies had turned a deep mauve at dusk, bringing with it a cooling wind that played across the back of his neck. He was sitting cross-legged at the centre of the courtyard with pots of burning herbs laid out in front of him. Elysia sat opposite him on the grass, stirring the coals with a bronze fire iron.

'The incense will help you slip into semi-consciousness' she explained. 'Your instinct will be to try and remain in control for as long as possible and failing that – as I'm sure you will – you are unlikely to pass out, as is your unfortunate habit'.

'I don't know' said Harry, his eyes already watering from the strong-smelling fumes. 'No offence, but the Doctor's tried a lot of strange things to help and for some reason, smelling incense never even entered into the conversation'.

'It's enhanced incense' she said with a glint of humour behind her characteristic concentration.

'Okay' said Harry, his nervousness leaving a sour taste in his mouth. 'Remind me how this works again?'

'Harry' she said sternly, putting down the iron with an impatient movement. 'This isn't going to work if you're only going to go half away. It will take some time for you to even get through to that invading presence, since your first instinct has always been to hide from it. This is not going to be easy' –

'I want to do it' Harry interrupted her, not needing to hear anymore to know that he had no other option.

'Then let's begin' said Elysia, examining his resolve closely as she lit the final match. 'This is the easy part. Close your eyes and relax as best you can. This combination is designed to draw you into intense experience – so get ready to relive some old memories before you breach that of the other self'.

'Cheers' muttered Harry, closing his eyes as instructed.

He instantly missed that spectacular twilight overhead. He could hear Elysia stirring the flames between them as well as the labour of his own breathing. The grass wasn't exactly level beneath him; maybe they should have tried this indoors, although he'd miss that refreshing breeze and would surely choke to death without it. He'd give anything for an explosion right now, or a nice corridor to run down– his lack of sight and the promise of what it might bring was grating on his nerves.

'You're not relaxed' criticised Elysia.

'I know I'm not' said Harry quickly, sure that he was scowling openly now, and choosing to focus on that image rather than the dull blackness which was surrounding him on all sides.

'Slow your breathing'.

Harry took in a long inhale and breathed out as slowly as he could, noticing that the warmth of the smoke was spreading to his fingertips. Eventually, he failed to notice even the breeze as the heat spread all the way throughout his body.

'Very good' said Elysia, as if through a thickening fog. 'Your surface memories will likely be your better ones, so try and simply let go to save as much energy as you can. You're going to need it'.

Only half-aware that he was slumping forwards where he sat, Harry's light-headedness gave way after a few minutes to a complete lack of awareness of his body at all.

 _Harry held his sides to catch his breath as he caught up with the Doctor, who had thankfully found River Song and seemed to be leaving the flirting for later in consideration of their imminent doom. The latter was casually examining the cave entrance with the composure of someone who might consider the division of Judoon they'd just outrun a mere inconvenience._

 _'_ _Harry' greeted River warmly. 'The Doctor's been telling me all about your predicament. And here I thought_ I _invented deus ex machina just last week'._

 _'_ _Never mind that now – we've got eighteen minutes to find a sulking Kroton before Hieropolis implodes' said the Doctor irritably. 'Meanwhile, you're inspecting wall art'._

 _'_ _It's a ploutonion, sweetie' answered River with a look of amusement. 'I assume you've heard of it'._

 _'_ _Let's say we haven't' said Harry, looking anxiously back over the crest of the hill to see if they'd been followed._

 _'_ _Pluto's Gate' offered the Doctor, looking pleased at the opportunity to show off his academic zeal, 'traditionally said to be the entryway to the underworld due its emission of toxic gases and the fact that any animal sacrifice sent down there died instantly. All perfectly natural, although that didn't stop the priests of Cybele from holding their breath down there and claiming divine protection' –_

 _'_ _Wrong' said River._

 _'_ _Wrong?' repeated the Doctor petulantly._

 _'_ _It's a red herring' she said, abandoning the entrance and shielding her eyes from the sun. 'Krotons like the dark and religious conspiracy is a wonderful distraction. Misdirection at its best – for people who think they're clever'._

 _'_ _You mean me?'_

 _'_ _I'm enjoying the history lesson, really, but shouldn't we be figuring out a way to get down there without suffocating?' interceded Harry on behalf of the city._

 _'_ _Well, we're looking for another entrance, ideally one without deadly fumes' said River, turning to look around the site. 'I'd suggest we split up, but the Doctor evidently needs more help – him being the Kroton's target audience'._

 _Harry wandered off to the other side of the temple grounds just to escape their bickering, but failed to find any sign of a hidden entrance._

 _'_ _You're on the wrong sssside'._

 _Harry looked around at the low hiss but there was no one in sight._

 _'_ _Hello?' asked Harry into the air, feeling stupid enough but willing to risk embarrassment given the situation._

 _'_ _Down here' said a voice and Harry looked down at his feet to see a large grey and black viper peeking out of the parched grassland._

 _Jumping backwards instinctively, Harry saw that the snake was preternaturally still and staring right at him._

 _'_ _The sssilver man' it hissed. 'He livesss opposssite the gate, beneath the ssspring'._

 _'_ _You're a snake' said Harry in a high voice, at which the viper let out what was unmistakably the reptilian equivalent of a chuckle._

 _'_ _You're a snake and I can understand you' said Harry, beyond stunned. 'Can you talk to all humans?'_

 _'_ _No' he replied, meandering through the grass to approach him. 'But you are a ssstrange human'._

 _'_ _This is insane' mumbled Harry. 'But I really, well – I have to go, but will you still be here later?'_

 _'_ _I'm a sssnake'._

 _Harry took that for a yes and ran off to find the others, not altogether sure if he felt excited or nauseated by his new skill._

 _The Doctor and River were in the process of breaking down the temple door when he reached them._

 _'_ _I know where it is' he panted. 'It's underneath the hot spring over by the gate'._

 _To his annoyance, the two shared an uncertain look and didn't move._

 _'_ _Come on, we're running out of time!'_

 _'_ _How could you know that?' asked the Doctor with suspicion. 'You were nowhere near the spring'._

 _'_ _What – never mind how I know it!' He was unnerved by what had happened and would have liked to keep the revelation to himself. A bit of telekinesis was one thing but snakes weren't exactly known for being cuddly creatures._

 _'_ _Harry, this could be a trap' warned River. 'Krotons are known for psychic manipulation. We're not going anywhere'._

 _'_ _Can't you just trust me?'_

 _'_ _You're hiding something' accused the Doctor. 'Is someone forcing you to say this?_

 _No!'_

 _'_ _Then tell us what's going on right now!_

 _'_ _A snake told me, alright?'_

 _The admission had slipped out unawares and Harry regretted it the moment it had._

 _'_ _Why didn't you just say so?' asked the Doctor carelessly. He grabbed River's hand and the couple sprinted off in the direction of the ploutonion without another word._

 _Harry was momentarily overcome with relief as the time travellers charged down the hill. A smile spread across his face and he ran after the pair with new energy._

 _Harry finished off the last of his scrambled eggs, the cutlery scraping noisily across his plate. Amy raised her eyebrows and he smiled sheepishly in apology._

 _'_ _Pass the butter, please' said Brian from behind his newspaper._

 _The butter dish hovered courteously to the other end of the table and Brian helped himself._

 _'_ _Amazing!'_

 _'_ _Dad, he's not our butler' said Rory disapprovingly._

 _'_ _I don't mind' said Harry with a grin. 'More milk, Brian?'_

 _'_ _Oh, relax' scoffed Amy at her husband's exasperated expression. 'I like a good floor show with breakfast'._

 _'_ _I'm just saying, we've never stayed in one place for this long' said Rory, stealing a piece of toast from Amy's plate. 'And Mrs. Jenkins might not be able to take the shock she'll get if she wanders past the window and sees Harry waving the dishes around his head'._

 _'_ _There's an easy fix for that – no supernatural acts in the front of the house' said Amy with an air of finality. 'And that goes for everyone'._

 _'_ _You sure you'll be okay all day?' asked Rory. 'Because I can switch my shift' –_

 _'_ _No way!' protested Harry. 'You wanted some normalcy – let's at least give it a go. Besides, I'll be busy all day doing normal kid things'._

 _'_ _Oh yeah?' asked Amy with amusement. 'And what does that look like?'_

 _'_ _You know… maths and things'._

 _'_ _Well now I_ really _think we should stay home'._

 _'_ _Rory Williams, I came all the way here at seven in the morning to spend some quality time with my favourite grandson' chided Brian. 'Now finish your tea and go to work or I'll have Harry levitate you out of here'._

 _'_ _And that's our signal' said Amy, leading a reluctant Rory away from the table and pointing him towards the hallway._

 _'_ _Have fun with River, you two' smirked Amy, grabbing her coat from the counter._

 _'_ _Always do' said Brian, raising his cup to her as she followed her husband out the front door._

Harry reeled sideways as he opened his eyes, realising that his breath was staggered as if he'd been running a great distance.

'Stay with it, Harry'.

'It's too vivid' he said, shaking his head weakly. 'And they were _not_ happy memories'.

Everything had felt too real and Harry had to swallow down the lump in his throat that had risen at the painful reminder of the Ponds.

'It'll be worth it, I promise' said Elysia urgently.

It was the momentary softness in her expression that convinced Harry to again close his eyes and allow the warmth to carry him away again.

 _Harry clenched his jaw as the Doctor continued working under the console as if he wasn't even there._

' _Why can't I help?' Harry argued. 'You were all for it when I was ten. We're five years on and now,_ River _won't even teach me - which means you asked her not to, and worse, she actually_ listened _'._

 _'_ _Not everyone gets to fly the most powerful ship in the universe, Harry. That's life, as people say'._

 _'_ _I don't think I'm a spoiled brat for wanting to help out around here' –_

 _'_ _Harry, this isn't a debate' he interrupted sharply, leaving Harry taken aback._

 _Not once could he remember the Doctor making a rule without a valid explanation, let alone one that he really intended Harry to follow. To be perfectly honest, Harry had always been led to believe that the Doctor's rules – ranging from the generic 'Don't wonder off' to the more contemplative 'Never knowingly be serious' – were more like helpful suggestions._

 _The Doctor's fierce expression, however, was leaving Harry no room for interpretation._

 _He seemed to recognise Harry's unease as well as the palpable tension between them where none had existed just a few minutes ago._

 _'_ _I'm sorry, Harry. But you're just going to have to trust me on this. You can also trust the fact that River only listens to a word I say on very special occasions; so when we ask you not to mess with the TARDIS, we mean it'._

 _Harry knew that arguing further would be pointless and so was forced to resign himself to knowing nothing – a state which went against his very nature. He could trust their judgement, certainly, but what really upset him was the realisation that they might not completely trust him._

Harry's eyes shot open again at the spiking pain in his forehead.

'Your scar?' she asked, her skin ghostly pale by the light of the flame.

'The pain's making me more alert' said Harry dejectedly. His headache had started to invade even that weightlessness brought on by the fumes.

'That's because you're still pulling yourself out of it. _Now_ is the time to deal with this, not after you've hurt somebody that you care about' –

 **'** I don't need you to tell me that' said Harry tightly. More than a little shaken from the sudden onslaught of memories, he took a lot longer to steady his breathing than before. And when he finally fell back into the drowsiness, his headache increased tenfold.

 _'_ _Would you ever just stay still?!'_

 _The horse nudged him to the side in angry protest. At this point Harry had given up trying to ride the animal in favour of pulling it along beside him through the thickest part of the forest. He was beginning to regret bringing him along at all, even it if the journey would have taken him all day on foot._

 _It probably wouldn't be a good idea to set him free at this point; he didn't want to give the king more of a reason to think them untrustworthy, considering they'd only barely convinced him that Amy's hair colour wasn't emblematic of Satan. It was Salem all over again._

 _He let out a breath of relief when they emerged from the undergrowth to a clearing surrounded by olive trees. Sweaty and tired, he could see the house in the distance and tied the unimpressed horse to the largest branch he could find._

 _'_ _Don't move for five minutes and I'll make it worth your while' said Harry while the horse began to gnaw at the pitiful knot he'd tied. 'I know you're a couple hundred years away from sugar, but trust me, you're going to love it'._

 _Harry's attempts to chat with non-reptilian animals had so far all failed, but he figured it was worth a try. Hurrying up to the front door, he knocked three times, looking forward to delivering some good news._

 _'_ _Diego?' tried Harry, knocking again. The poor kid was probably still hiding under his bed – not that Harry blamed him. They probably didn't get a lot of psychotic shapeshifters in medieval Castile._

 _'_ _We found your dad' said Harry, pushing open the door slowly so as not to give him a fright. 'He's fine, the Doctor's fixing his leg up right now. I don't suppose you know how to ride a horse…'_

 _Only two feet into the room, Harry felt a chill of foreboding run through him. Sticking out from under the kitchen table, there was a pair of bare feet and the ends of skinny trouser legs, the rest out of sight._

 _'_ _Diego, are you' –_

 _Stepping forwards, Harry stumbled in shock as he took in the full sight. Blood was pouring out of the torso, as if someone had clawed the body apart with his bare hands. Worse was the dismembered head, glassy eyes still staring…_

 _Harry pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes as if he could undo what he'd seen as a pained noise rose in his throat. A footstep behind him made him turn on his heels._

 _'_ _How are you… you can't be here' muttered Harr, in a daze. Rodriguez was sitting in a chair beside the fireplace, looking calmer than Harry could comprehend in his present state… Because he couldn't have gotten here before Harry, he didn't even have a working leg…_

 _Harry noticed the blood covering the man's hands at the same time he took in the crazed look in his eyes, which made the face unrecognisable as that of the caring father they'd met earlier that morning._

 _The imposter seemed unconcerned by his presence and started giggling grotesquely, licking at his stained fingers._

 _All of a sudden, the chill in Harry's blood was replaced by a rage he didn't know he was capable of. He swayed where he stood and felt his forehead burn along with the man's chair. He wasn't howling with glee now, but pain as his clothes caught fire with the wood and he fell rolling to the floor._

 _The whinnying of the horse at the open door momentarily shook Harry from his anger. The flames ceased and the shape shifter stilled on the floor. Harry saw that his skin was scorched and reeled back in horror at what he'd almost done. For a second, he had been two people and one of them had been egging him on for more…_

 _"Nice costume, mister!"_

 _Harry saw the small boy's smile falter as he ran near enough to see beneath the hood of the cloak, saw the fear cloud his pained face: Then the child turned and ran away... Beneath the robe he fingered the handle of his wand... One simple movement and the child would never reach his mother... but unnecessary, quite unnecessary..._

 _And along a new and darker street he moved, and now his destination was in sight at last, the Fidelius Charm broken, though they did not know it yet... And he made less noise than the dead leaves slithering along the pavement as he drew level with the dark hedge, and steered over it._

 _They had not drawn the curtains; he saw them quite clearly in their little sitting room, the tall black-haired man in his glasses, making puffs of coloured smoke erupt from his wand for the amusement of the small black-haired boy in his blue pajamas. The child was laughing and trying to catch the smoke, to grab it in his small fist._

 _A door opened and the mother entered, saying words he could not hear, her long dark-red hair falling over her face. Now the father scooped up the son and handed him to the mother. He threw his wand down upon the sofa and stretched, yawning..._

 _The gate creaked a little as he pushed it open, but the father did not hear. Harry's white hand pulled out the wand beneath his cloak and pointed it at the door, which burst open..._

 _He was over the threshold as the man came sprinting into the hall. It was easy, too easy, he had not even picked up his wand..._

 _"Take him and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"_

 _Hold him off, without a wand in his hand! He laughed before casting the curse._

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

 _The green light filled the cramped hallway, it lit the pram pushed against the wall, it made the banisters glow like lightning rods, and the boy's father fell like a marionette whose strings were cut._

 _Harry could hear her screaming from the upper floor, trapped, but as long as she was sensible, she, at least, had nothing to fear. He climbed the steps, listening with faint amusement to her attempts to barricade herself in. She had no wand upon her either. How stupid they were, and how trusting, thinking that their safety lay in friends, that weapons could be discarded even for moments._

 _He forced the door open, cast aside the chair and boxes hastily piled against it with one lazy wave of his wand... and there she stood, the child in her arms. At the sight of him, she dropped her son into the crib behind her and threw her arms wide, as if this would help, as if in shielding him from sight she hoped to be chosen instead..._

 _"Please no! I'll do anything!"_

 _"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now."_

 _"Please, take me, kill me instead" –_

 _"This is my last warning."_

 _"Not my baby! Please... have mercy... have mercy... Not him! Please, I'll do anything..."_

 _"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"_

 _Harry could have forced her away from the crib, but it seemed more prudent to finish them all._

 _The green light flashed around the room and she dropped like her husband. The child had not cried all this time. He could stand, clutching the bars of his crib, and he looked up into the intruder's face with a kind of bright interest, perhaps thinking that it was his father who hid beneath the cloak, making more pretty lights, and his mother would pop up any moment, laughing._

 _He pointed the wand very carefully into the boy's face: He wanted to see it happen, the destruction of this one, inexplicable danger. The child began to cry: It had seen that he was not his father. He did not like it crying, he had never been able to stomach the small ones whining in the orphanage._

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry came to with a painful wrench.

He was shaking uncontrollably in the silent air and could barely make out his surroundings through his fogged up glasses. After years of similar nightmares, he knew what those words meant. The faces of that nameless family were branded into his skull… that sickening urge to kill…

'Harry?' asked an uncertain voice.

Harry managed to look up and found Elysia looking at him with concern. The flames had died out by now and the pain in his scar had gone, not even leaving a trace of the agony he'd felt throughout the vision.

'You did well'.

Harry heard the words with confusion, until he realised that something _had_ been different this time. He had been horrified – _him_ , not the murderer whose dark thoughts were making him sick even on reflection. The two minds had split in that moment and he'd been able to break away without passing out.

Right now he was too numb to feel good about that.

Still shaking and pale, Harry turned his head to see Mason standing silently at the open doorway to the greenhouse. Harry tried to give him a reassuring nod but suspected he'd achieved something closer to a grimace. Mason appeared to understand his intent though and sent a much more successful version back before wandering out to help his mother gather up the rest of the supplies. Harry supposed they were done for the night.

He might have felt embarrassed at the thought that the two were seeing him so vulnerable – even at his worst, there had always been a far corner of the TARDIS he could escape to so as not to worry the others. But their quiet presence was oddly comforting to him as he watched the lingering smoke disperse in the cool evening air, too worn out to move for the time being.

Never had he felt so miserable and never had there been so much hope.


	8. With Lifetimes in Between

**Chapter 8: With Lifetimes in Between**

'I swear I have no idea what they get up to all day...We've only got ten farms and a library, it's not like they've anything else to regulate…You sure you don't want some of this, Harry?'

Harry looked down at the remains of Mason's stew, where rubbery grey eels could be seen floating ominously at the bottom of the bowl. He politely declined, settling for the side of charred leaves which tasted vaguely of crisps when drowned in enough salt.

He wished latently that he'd remembered to pack some chocolate before embarking on what was turning out to be rather an extended trip, but you can't choose your spoilers.

'Well I can't really blame her for wanting to stay out' said Harry. To occupy his hands, he picked up a book on medicinal poultices and started flicking through it with the level of interest you might expect. 'I don't think I've ever seen your mum take a break'.

'Oh, she's not taking a break' grumbled Mason. 'She's just leaving the grunt work to me so she can run off and play the politician…'

This said, he proceeded to take out his frustration on the chopping board, leaving a pile of mush where sliced chickweed should have been.

Harry wisely said nothing, letting the older boy get it out his system. He'd quickly realised that diplomatic silence was the only way to survive arguments between the teenager and his mother, which were rapidly increasing right along with Mason's already heavy workload.

Harry's repeated offers to help out had been deemed unnecessary by the pair of them once they'd seen how fundamentally unsuited he was to botany. Granted, neither patience nor precision were qualities one usually looked for in a time traveller and Elysia maintained that pluck and recklessness were similarly redundant in her laboratory or any other, for that matter.

Add that to his near-successful attempts to block out his powers and Harry was in danger of feeling properly useless.

He could only practice for so many hours a day before his head started to throb at an unbearable level. In fact, his first weeks in hiding were characterised by so much pain in his scar that it became a habit of Mason's to carry homemade headache soothers on his person at all times, an act of kindness for which Harry would be forever grateful.

Three months in, Harry was on the verge of complete suppression of his powers and despite his initial reservations, he couldn't help but admit to the enormous amount of relief that came with leaving them behind once and for all.

For one thing, his dreams were again his own.

But while the curing of his chronic insomnia might have been a helpful improvement back when his daily activities were of the higher-risk variety (Abe would likely never forgive him for snoring through Gettysburg), right now the extra energy was making him a bit stir crazy, considering that the most danger he was likely to run into here was a scathing look from Elysia if he were to break another window.

During all this time, Harry saw nothing of the outside world, barring the perplexed neighbour who'd wandered into the greenhouse one day to return the football they'd kicked over the courtyard wall (which, as it turned out, hadn't landed as unobtrusively on the roof as they'd estimated). They had heard her approach with time to spare but Mason was still jumpy enough to insist that Harry hide under the laboratory table for the entirety of her visit.

'All I'm saying is, you could be a little more careful' he complained, once Harry had climbed out and wiped off whatever half-decomposed plant had gotten stuck to his sleeve. 'She wanted to know what it was – I had to invent some sort of foot-operated rolling pin…'

'I'm careful enough, aren't I? Haven't been executed yet…' Harry fell into a chair and started rolling the football around in his hands thoughtfully. 'Mason, you're not staying in just to keep me company, are you?'

'What? Of course not' he said, nonplussed.

'But you must have friends, people your own age. You've barely left the house since I got here' said Harry with a challenging look. 'I just don't want to you to think I'm bored under house arrest and that you need to entertain me or something... I've got ' _Immunology in the Ogon Belt'_ for that' he joked, picking up another frayed book at random.

'Well everyone's the same around here, aren't they?' said Mason, eyes still fixed on his steadily working hands. 'My friends will still be here when you're gone… The universe won't be'.

'You know, you could always come with us' suggested Harry after a moment's pause. 'As long a trip as you like'.

'What, and have chips on Neptune with you and the Doctor?' said Mason, rolling his eyes.

'That's the idea, yeah' grinned Harry, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence.

Harry knew that despite Mason's fascination with all things celestial, he wouldn't be leaving his home planet anytime soon unless forcibly removed, which from the sounds of it wasn't that remote a worry for the people of the town. Home was everything to him; Harry's presence just a momentary glimpse into another, more exciting world. For Harry, it was arguably the most stable routine he'd kept up in years.

He wondered if he'd have ever chosen to leave Earth if the Dursleys had treated him like one of their own. Remembering Dudley, he winced and moved on.

.

.

.

For lack of a better use for his time, Harry took to sitting with Mason while he worked and telling him stories, the like of which Harry had a great number in reserve for just such an occasion. Mason never tired of hearing about the Doctor or their adventures but as the weeks drew on, Harry could tell that he was beginning to test the limits of the other boy's credulity.

'Okay, now you're just having me on' he interrupted.

'Really? You don't believe in Raxacoricofallapatorians?' clarified Harry in amazement. 'Men with potatoes for heads you're fine with, but you draw the line at a long word…'

'Say it quickly three times'.

Before Harry could do so (seamlessly), they were interrupted by the stormy arrival of Mason's mum, who threw her scarf on the nearest bench and went straight to her office with barely a nod to the pair of them.

'Now's as good a time as any' said Mason under his breath, looking amused at Harry's unwillingness to move from his seat.

He had been hoping to catch the botanist in a better mood but true enough, her light-hearted moments were few and far between and improved the overall harmony of the household to such an extent that Harry wasn't wont to spoil it with serious discussion of any kind, let alone this one.

Knocking casually as he pushed the door open, Harry found her bent over her notes.

'Do you have a second?'

'I suppose so. You don't mind if I keep writing while you talk, do you?' said Elysia noncommittally.

'No, not at all' said Harry, rocking back and forth on his heels. 'It shouldn't take long, I was just wondering… I mean, I'm not much of a help, am I? And you've been wonderful, both of you. I'm a thousand times better than when I arrived. But like you said' –

'What are you mumbling about?' she sighed.

'I think I should be getting back to the Doctor' he said. 'My scar hasn't been acting up for weeks now and well…I have to leave sometime, don't I?'

Elysia looked at him blankly and then returned to her work.

'I know we never set a date or anything but you said it would likely never leave completely. And if I can control myself here, surely' –

'It's your decision, Harry' she interrupted him. 'I wasn't planning on holding you against your will'.

'It's not that I'm not grateful' –

'I think you've mistaken my effectiveness for concern, Harry' she said coldly. 'It won't affect me or my son if you put the Doctor at risk, I'm sure he's used to it by now' –

'Now wait a second' said Harry, frowning now.

'If you can trust yourself after everything you've seen then good luck to you' she said crisply. 'I'm afraid you'll have to forgive me my lack of faith…'

Elysia didn't look up again and this time, Harry was the one to storm out, seething with supressed rage and disappointment. What had he been expecting, after all? Certainly not an amicable parting after months of effort and mental strain, not a chance. His determination to move on yet unshaken, Elysia's disapproval was enough to make him put off his departure for a few days in doubt, at which point he was saved the effort of making up his mind by the intervening hand of circumstance, which woke him up in the middle of the night in the form of a Mason-shaped shadow.

'Harry!' he whispered, shaking him frantically and pushing his glasses roughly onto his face.

'What…Mason, what time is it?' he groaned, attempting to roll back over onto his side.

'You have to go' he said in a low voice, picking up Harry's things from the floor and piling them into a careless heap on top of the blanket. 'I don't know why and I have no idea how but the guards, they're here…That neighbour must have tipped them off…'

'What, here?' said Harry in an answering whisper, stumbling to his feet and grabbing his luggage which the other boy had wrapped haphazardly in the bed covers. 'How did they' –

'I heard them break in from my room. I don't even know if mum's up yet…' he said, pulling the trap door open as quietly as possible as the floorboards above them began to shake. Sure enough, distant footsteps could be heard overhead. Harry pulled on his shoes hastily and followed Mason down the hidden stairway without another word.

It was cooler here. They managed to make it to the end of the corridor in silence before they saw the approach of the guards behind them, accompanied by raised shouts and the mellow glow of torches at their heels.

'Come on!' said Mason as the two of them broke out into a run.

'What the hell…' exclaimed Harry in surprise as the sound of gunfire broke out behind them. 'What happened to traditional?'

'I _told_ you! Oh, forget it' panted Mason as the two of them rounded another corner. They seemed to run for miles before the tunnel opened up into a wider crevice and out into a thicket. For the first time in months, Harry could see mountains in the distance.

'You should…be fine…to travel from here' said Mason, leaning forward on his knees to catch his breath. 'We should have trained for this...'

'What about you?' asked Harry worriedly, keeping one eye on the tunnel entrance in the light of a purpling night sky as he pulled the home box from his pile of belongings.

'It's you they hate. Besides, it's not the first time I've been found burrowing under the town late at night' said Mason with a lopsided grin, pulling himself up and looking at Harry uncertainly. 'Good luck, I guess'.

'Thank you' said Harry, pulling him into a quick but sincere hug, still conscious of the guards on their tail. 'For everything. If it wasn't for you, I'd have cracked months ago'.

'Well, there's still time yet'.

'Mason' –

'Go!'

Harry gave a final smile before pressing down firmly on that portentous red button, feeling the shock of teleportation run through his system like a rush of static.

.

.

.

The first thing he noticed was that he was a little out of practice when it came to teleporting gracefully.

It was a skill which River had painstakingly fostered in him so as not to diminish the necessary histrionics of their arrival, which was often both unexpected and highly illegal (necessary to the archaeologist, in any case; River swore that the melodrama saved them ammunition in the long run, but even at ten years old Harry didn't quite buy that excuse).

Cheap and cheerful time travel it may be, but Harry would still take being hurled bodily through the time vortex via box over vortex manipulation any day. His hair was unruly enough as it was. In any case, he swayed dangerously on his feet as he rematerialized and began to take in his surroundings.

The second thing he noticed was that this most definitely was not the TARDIS.

'You humans, you're all blind… in the visually impaired sense, as well – as – the being stupid sense…'

Harry was discombobulated enough not to fully process the words, spinning on his heels dumbly. Instead of the welcoming gold and turquoise glow he had been expecting, he was standing next to an angular console, dark grey and metallic with neon lights shining from all sides and a deep red emanating from the central pillar. And were those Gallifreyan symbols rotating above his head?

'What is the one place that children are told never to look? _The sun_. Hundreds of _thousands_ of years of human evolution and your tiny, delicate eyes are still faulty when it comes to looking outside in the morning' –

Harry heard the voice before he spotted its owner, back turned and rooting through bookshelves on a platform above him.

'Nobody look at that great big burning thing in the sky! That's humans for you, missing the obvious because they're too busy reading about faces on the internet' –

'I'm sorry… what's wrong with the sun?' said Harry in bewilderment, looking uncertainly at the chalkboard to his left where someone had scribbled Hubble's Law next to a game of hangman.

'What's wrong with it?!' repeated the man, who Harry could now see was grey-haired, tall and dressed all in black as he walked along the railing and down the steps to look at a screen on the opposite side. 'For all we know, it's the most efficient surveillance scheme this planet has ever seen, or not seen as it turns out…'

Harry was hardly listening, having frozen at the sight of the white phone box door. Panic was beginning to settle in, the man's words drowned out by the rushing sound in his ears because this was definitely _a_ TARDIS. But that was impossible – unless – had the Doctor sent Harry to the _Master's_ TARDIS?! Last he knew, the Master had been driven insane and this man certainly looked unhinged –

'Then again, maybe I've just spent the last two weeks stranded in Medieval Rutland' considered the man, still not looking at Harry. 'Which is even worse than you're imagining, by the way'.

Harry's eyes flitted between the pile of books running up the steps and the flashing lights on the panel in front of him, then back to the man's face.

'Something clever's _bound_ to happen soon' he rambled. 'Either that or I take up scrapbooking…and no one in the universe wants that' –

Suddenly everything fell into place for Harry, his mouth falling open at the undeniable truth.

'You're the Doctor' he realised.

The Time Lord fell silent and looked up at Harry as if noticing him for the first time.

'How long have you been standing there?' he asked, sounding far too calm.

'Since you started talking at me' said Harry with the beginnings of irritation (which helped to steady him through the wooziness that had begun to set in with his shock). 'You weren't going to reintroduce yourself, then?'

'I thought you were Clara'.

'Oh, that's nice….' said Harry, running his hands through his hair as if it would help to declutter his racing thoughts. 'I've grown three inches, if you haven't noticed'.

'Ah' said the Doctor as if remembering something. 'Speaking of growth…'

He opened a drawer at one of the surrounding panels and pulled out a box wrapped in blue paper while the ringing in Harry's ears continued on.

'We missed your birthday while you were at rehab for possessed people' he said dryly, handing it to Harry with a stiffness in his movements that Harry didn't recognise.

Harry opened the lid to find an identical pair of square-framed glasses to those he had worn since childhood.

'Thanks, but I already have glasses' he said numbly.

'But these are better – these are _sonic'_ said the Doctor with feeling. 'You can use them to open doors and turn on the telly without standing up'.

'You're not usually this nice, are you?' said Harry, considering him closely. 'I'm guessing you wrapped this before…the eyebrows'.

'What makes you say that?' said the Doctor defensively.

'The grimace you're wearing right now' said Harry, smiling despite himself.

'Well, can you really blame me? There's a great big bow on it' complained the Doctor. Harry laughed and exchanged his old pair for the new, examining the settings as a tangible silence settled between them.

'Is there a reason you're Scottish now?' he asked eventually.

'Not particularly'.

Another silence.

'And you think the sun's spying on us?'

'I've no idea. Let's find out, shall we?'

.

.

.

Clara woke up begrudgingly to find the room still encased in early morning darkness, the thin curtains letting in a faint orange glow from the street lamps outside. Frowning in annoyance, she burrowed further into the warm bed clothes, curling up against the pyjama clad back lying next to her.

'Danny' she whispered, poking him in the shoulder.

'What is it?' he answered groggily, stubbornly refusing to open his eyes.

'I heard a noise'.

'That's nice' he mumbled into his pillow.

'I heard something outside the door. Could be a break-in' she said, giving him another poke for good measure when he failed to respond. 'Go on, soldier'.

'Don't you moonlight as a time traveller?' he said, rolling over tiredly. 'It's probably just the Doctor'.

'Not bloody likely. I warned him about middle of the night visits. I just lived two days in a row, remember?' she said, her voice persuasively hoarse with exhaustion and her eyes still clamped tightly shut. 'He's not completely devoid of self-preservation…'

'Alright' groaned Danny, leaning over to kiss Clara's forehead as she gave her best impression of someone who had been sleeping peacefully all along.

Stepping blindly through the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, Danny staggered through the hallway and into the lounge which was similarly thief-free. Yawning widely, he pushed open the kitchen door and turned on the light. The black-haired boy, who seemed to have fallen asleep sitting up at the kitchen table in front of an open container of ice cream, woke abruptly, his eyes widening in alarm as they met Danny's.

'I wasn't going to eat all of this' he protested, pulling himself up from the table where a small pool of melted ice cream had formed and left a stain on his right sleeve. He rubbed his eyes as if trying to wake himself up. 'There wasn't any milk for tea, see... Wait, is this your flat?' he asked, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

'Clara?' called Danny loudly, it being too early in the morning to make much sense of this.

'What?' she said, coming around the corner in a light blue dressing gown and stilling at the kitchen doorway with a look of surprise.

'Did you know there was a teenager in your kitchen?' asked Danny.

'Harry?' said Clara in confusion, turning to look at her boyfriend in an effort to explain. 'Oh, Harry, he's…'

'I'm her brother' offered Harry, noticing Clara's difficulty.

'You didn't know this was her flat' said Danny suspiciously.

'I'm her _amnesiac_ brother' amended Harry without missing a beat.

'No, Harry, it's okay' interceded Clara quickly. 'This is Danny, he's my boyfriend. And Harry…Harry travels with the Doctor as well'.

'Nice to meet you' said Harry, quickly jumping up and wiping his sleeve on his jacket to offer his hand, turning to look curiously at Clara as he did so. 'You told a normal?'

'The Doctor didn't give me much of a choice' said Clara under her breath and Harry nodded in understanding. 'Is he here too?'

'Oh…no – Listen, I'm sorry to just show up like this. We got split up at the Natural History Museum; the dinosaur exhibit' said Harry, leaning back uncomfortably against the counter top as if conscious that awkwardness could break out at any moment.

'How was it?' asked Danny. 'I'm going with the Level Tens next week, the butterfly exhibit is supposed to be wonderful'.

'Oh, it is' said Harry, tensing slightly. 'I wouldn't go there for a while, though'.

'Oh?' asked Clara.

'It's probably fine' he tried to reassure them. 'Or it will be by next weekend. Just a bit of… spontaneous reanimation' –

'The butterflies?' asked Danny with raised eyebrows.

'The dinosaurs' Harry corrected him. 'Although dead butterflies flying about the place doesn't sound great either…'

'Right, well I might just leave you to it then, if everything's okay here' said Danny, looking at Clara for confirmation.

'Night' called out Harry, looking nervously at Clara once Danny had wandered off to try and get some sleep. 'What's it like?' he asked, elaborating at Clara's blank look. 'Having a life at the same time'.

'I'll tell you when I figure it out' said Clara honestly, grabbing a glass of water.

'Again, sorry about the short notice' said Harry. 'I've been meaning to come over for a while, but, er… When I say we got split up, I mean the Doctor _almost definitely_ left me behind so I'd come here and apologise'.

'Apologise?' asked Clara, momentarily thrown.

'For being horrible to you at Torchwood. Which I was' he said, wincing slightly at the memory.

Funny, I don't remember you being horrible' said Clara. 'I remember you being in a lot of pain'.

'Well, I'm all better now' smiled Harry, brushing off her concern not altogether convincingly. 'I'm lucky I made it here in the first place. The Doctor texted me the address and you could tell he was running away while he wrote it… I had to fill in a lot of blanks'.

'The Doctor has a mobile?' asked Clara, both affronted and guilty that she was feeling jealous of a sixteen-year-old boy. She had tried to buy the Doctor a phone countless times but – despite her assertions that any loss of credibility was worth it if it meant avoiding mix ups like the one that had left her marooned on an abandoned air carrier last month – he kept 'accidentally' chucking them into supernovas.

'I'm texting him now' said Harry, pulling his hand out of his jacket to reveal a small phone.

'What's he saying, then?' asked Clara, pulling out a chair. 'Remind him that I haven't had a decent night's sleep in three days'.

'He's saying… 'It's five in the morning – shouldn't you be up already anyway, burning soufflés and making giant eyes at yourself in the mirror?' I have no idea what that means' said Harry, squinting in confusion at the screen before giving up with a laugh and joining Clara at the table. 'He's fairly rude this time around, isn't he?'

'He's always been rude' laughed Clara. 'He's just never enjoyed it quite this much…How are you taking all of that?' she asked, picking up a spoon and digging into the semi-frozen tub between them.

'The regeneration?' asked Harry lightly. 'Well, I'm not mad about the new wardrobe' –

'I meant the new face'.

'I know what you meant' said Harry, not looking at her in favour of concentrating on the spoon in his hand. 'I dunno… it suits him' he went on. 'It almost makes sense, doesn't it? _I_ feel different. Maybe it'd help to have a different face… Less reminders'.

Clara looked at him thoughtfully before shaking her head. 'No, yours suits you as well. Do you mind if I ask…?' she said, pointing vaguely at his forehead.

'It's under control' said Harry and Clara noticed something like contentment light up his face for the first time. 'No more magic tricks, though. Although there might always be a certain level at the surface. Like static' he rambled before noticing Clara's yawn. 'Sorry, you should probably try and get some sleep as well… You've got that life to get back to'.

'And what'll you do?'

'I dunno' said Harry carelessly. 'Overthink things. I'll probably finish this ice cream as well if that's okay. Why, do you want to join me?' he asked with raised eyebrows.

'Well…' said Clara pulling her legs up to sit cross legged on the chair and wiping melted chocolate from her upper lip. 'Since I'm up'.

 **A/N: So a transition of sorts, with more fluff than I'm generally comfortable with :D Hope you enjoyed it anyway! Just one mini-adventure to go and then on with the head-exploding paradoxes. A brief cameo from the Wizarding World up ahead, which will probably last the rest of the story, so... bear with me...**


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